


His Raven Heart

by apisa_b



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Freeform, Mind Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, general abuse, mention of forced sex work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-10-11 23:44:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20554652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apisa_b/pseuds/apisa_b
Summary: Shortly after Ben had severed the last ties to his family, he was summoned to the mysterious mill near Corellia by a faraway voice in his dreams. With nowhere better to go and desperate to avoid the army recruiters on both sides of the war, he followed the voice, and upon finding the mill took on an apprenticeship – and a new name.The work was grueling and mind numbing, and slowly he came to the realization that something wasn’t quite right in this mill. After discovering the Master’s dark secrets, he was already far too entangled in the twisted ways of the mill to be able to break free from the shackles binding him to the malevolent Master.All hope of escape seemed lost. Can a chance meeting get Ben to embrace love and light, and start a chain of events resulting in his freedom?Reylo AU inspired by and based on the German classic YA novel "Krabat and the Sorcerer’s Mill" by Otfried Preussler.





	1. Obey the Voice of the Master

**Author's Note:**

> The song lyrics at the beginning of each chapter are a translation of ASP's song ["Krabat"](https://youtu.be/xLtgX9ydgWM).
> 
> Please be aware of possible triggers, as some darker themes are explored in this story.
> 
> Many thanks to the RFFA Mods for creating an amazing promotional moodboard for the story.
> 
>   
  


_ Obey the voice _  
_ Of the master, obey it _  
_ Obey the voice _ _  
Of the master, obey it_

_ I followed the master's call _  
_ The voice attracted me magically _  
_ The hoarse calling in the night _  
_ In the dream pulled me into his spell _  
_ With clammy, sweat-moistened hand _  
_ I finally open the door _  
_ To the secret black chamber _  
_ And the master speaks to me _  
_ He asks me: "What shall I teach you?" _  
_ "Milling and the other things as well" _  
_ He holds his left hand to me _ _  
I slap it, that's the custom_

_ July _

“How much do you want for this beauty?“

Armitage had drawn quite the crowd by leading in a huge and well-muscled black stallion and announcing that he was willing to part from it. With the way people were pressing in on them, Kylo didn’t even have to pretend to be a somewhat skittish horse. He’d never liked being surrounded by a crowd of people. It had taken him some time to get used to living with twelve people in the confined space of the mill. There they respected each other’s need for privacy, as much as it was feasible with all of them sleeping on bunk beds in that huge room underneath one roof. But here, at the market, livestock traders as well as noblemen were standing in a circle around them, and the more interested ones didn’t hesitate to yank his head down in order to examine his teeth and eyes more closely, whilst peppering Armitage with questions. They wondered where a farm boy had come by such a fine horse, and how he managed to hide it from pillaging mercenaries.

“I’m not going to sell him for less than 50 credits,” Armitage stated firmly.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you 30 credits, let’s shake on that. I can assure you nobody will pay more. Deal?” The man currently examining his teeth said, turning towards Armitage, and held out his hand.

Armitage pursed his lips, but shook his head.

“No, it’s 50 credits, or I’m going to take him back home and have him sire the next generation of horses at our farm.”

“I’m out,” the man said, as he let go of the halter and stepped away. “You’re never going to get your 50 credits, though. Not with the state his teeth are in.”

After hearing that remark Kylo flattened his ears back, shifted his weight and accidentally stepped on the man’s foot. Nothing was wrong with his teeth. They might not be entirely straight, but they were healthy and strong.

Armitage yanked sharply on the lead rope and apologized profusely. Kylo knew that the Master would hear about his little tantrum, and that he was going to be punished for endangering the deal, but hearing the painful yelp of the man unfairly criticizing his teeth, and the string of curses directed at Armitage was worth it.

“I’ll gladly pay 35 credits, if only for the pleasure of seeing a horse with the common sense to step on that slimy cutthroat’s toes,” another trader quipped. Armitage didn’t budge. Slowly, all the local vendors gave up the haggling and only stayed around to watch the proceedings to have a good tale to tell at the tavern. Only one travelling trader, who knew fully well he could sell a horse like that for at least 100 credits elsewhere, and a local nobleman were still trying to outbid each other. They kept their bids below the price Armitage had named. It was common for people to underestimate him. With his flaming red hair and green eyes, he managed to look innocent, yet the disdainful curl of his lips belied this impression, if anyone cared to take a closer look. 

Kylo had never made the mistake of trusting Armitage. Soon after he’d arrived at the mill, it became clear that Armitage was the Master’s eyes and ears among the journeymen working there, and so he kept his distance as much as possible ever since.

When the trader, a tall and fat man in a cap, begrudgingly raised his bid above the full price, the nobleman sighed, stroked the stallion’s head and murmured, “What a shame. You would have been a great addition to my stable. But 50 credits is too much for a horse I don’t really need, no matter how beautiful.”

Kylo was glad that the trader had bought him. Partly because it would be easier to escape somewhere far from the city, and partly because the nobleman seemed to be an honest man, and he loathed to scam a good man.

Armitage sealed the deal with a handshake. The money was handed over, and he turned to leave. Kylo tensed and forced himself not to show his worry. Any minute now, Armitage would surely ask to keep the halter he was wearing. Only without the halter he could he able to change back into his human form at will – a stupid limitation of the spell the Master had taught them, if there ever was one. Armitage always liked to taunt his brethren by seemingly forgetting to take off the halter, but never before had he let things progress as far as this. The new owner of the black stallion was already loosening the knot, tying the leading rope to the bar, and Armitage had nearly crossed the market square, when he stopped, turned to look back, winked at him, and came back.

“You know,” he said to the trader with a pleading look in his eyes, “that horse was mine to take care of since the day it was born, and I’m quite attached to him. I made the halter he is wearing myself. Let me keep that as a keepsake to remember him by. Come, I’ll help you tie the leading rope into a makeshift one.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” the trader asked incredulously. “You’ve practically robbed me, and now you want the halter as well?”

“It’s threadbare anyway; you’d have to replace it soon.” Armitage muttered a few words under his breath, made a barely noticeable motion with his left hand and then reached up to point out the place on the side of the horse’s head, where the hemp rope was worn through.

“All right, all right. You can have it.”

Relieved Kylo snorted and forcefully bumped his head into Armitage’s side, as the man tied the leading rope around his head and took off the original halter.

“There you go, no need to make a fuss,” Armitage whispered into his ear, thanked the trader again and sauntered off.

“I really hope you’re worth what I think you are,” the man said and forcefully pulled on the rope, which caused a considerable amount of pain. Armitage had, as usual, tied the rope in a way that it pressed into his nose at the most sensitive spots, and the knots on the side would chafe him raw soon. There was nothing he could do, but to follow the massive man, as he led him out of the city.

“That boy duped you, Plutt. 50 credits, really?” someone called as they wound their way out of the city.

“Black horses are rare, and I happen to know someone who desperately needs some for his personal guards,” Plutt called back. ”I’ll sell him for at least 70 credits, you’ll see.”

“Where?”

“I’m not going to tell you. Do you think I’m stupid?”

Plutt strode out of the city with forceful steps, unnecessarily yanking the leading-rope in frequent intervals. With his ears lying flat on his head and tail swishing in annoyance, Kylo started to mull over his escape plan. Normally, he preferred to turn back into his human form when no one was around, and slip away without making any fuss; but this trader deserved to be taught a lesson on how to treat animals. He just wasn’t sure how to best go about it.

When they arrived at the place where Plutt had set up camp in a meadow next to the street leading to Chandrila and the creek coming down from the mill, he saw his chance.

“Girl!” Plutt bellowed. Instantly a young woman rose from where she was squatting in front of the fire stirring in a pot. She was a scrawny thing; her hair pulled back in three buns at the back of her head, and wore a grey apron over a fawn colored dress.

“Take care of this horse. Hobble him, water and feed him, but don’t give him any oats. He won’t be around long anyway. And make sure he is properly groomed.”

While Plutt barked out his orders, Kylo raised his head high, nostrils flaring, and took in his surroundings to assess his situation. Besides the girl and Plutt, there was only one other person in the camp, a young man currently emerging from the back of a covered wagon, clearly drawn out by curiosity when he heard the commotion outside. Plutt once again yanked forcefully on the leading rope, and this was the last straw – he’d had it with this mistreatment. He reared up and made sure to knock Plutt down with a kick of his forelegs. Surprised, the trader let the rope slide through his hand, and he was free. He hadn’t counted on the young man having a bull’s whip at the ready, and actually having the quick reflexes to use it on him. When the end of the whip coiled around his neck, he screamed in pain and reared up again, dragging the young man holding on the handle of the whip nearer.

“Teedo, no! You are hurting him!” The young woman shouted and rushed towards them.

“He was about to escape,” the man panted, whilst trying to get the horse under control.

Despite the whip cutting into his flesh, he reared again, but the lad held fast to the handle, and didn’t let go.

In a flurry of grey and beige, the girl rushed between them and cut the whip with an upward swing of her hand. As he was coming down on his forelegs again, the knife in her hand collided with the right side of his head and managed to inflict a long cut, barely missing his eye. Once again, Kylo couldn’t hold back an agonizing scream and jumped back, landing on Plutt’s leg with one hoof. Plutt’s wailing screams accompanied his frenzied flight around the bend of the road. He let out a relieved breath when he finally came across a bramble hedge separating the meadow from the street, and he was able to change back without being seen. 

After he’d cleaned his wounds up as best as he could with his neckerchief, he crossed over to the other side of the creek. He was very thankful that the shrubbery growing on this side obscured him from view and let him head back to where he’d meet up with Armitage, no one the wiser. Walking about with blood dripping from the wounds the whip had inflicted, as well as from the knife, he never would have been able to pass through Corellia unnoticed.

When he neared the meeting point, he found Armitage Ren sprawled out in the grass with his back against a log, fast asleep. He knew Armitage would have something to eat in his jacket, and he carefully extracted the pieces of bread and cheese, which had been saved for him, before he nudged Armitage awake with the tip of his boots.

“You know that sleeping too much isn’t exactly healthy. At least, not to your possessions,” he deadpanned and took a hearty bite of cheese, as Armitage warily blinked up at him.

“What on earth happened to your face, Kylo?” Armitage asked, not too concerned by the state he was in.

“Let’s say not everything went according to plan.”

“You lost your temper and did something stupid, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t lose my temper. I just couldn’t bear to be abused any longer by that sorry excuse for a human being.”

“And you did something stupid.”

“I might not have thought my actions through,” Kylo admitted. “But that was partially your fault. You knew exactly what you were doing when you tied that rope around my head. That hurt, you bastard!”

Armitage tried his best to hide his smugness, but Kylo knew him too well by now not to miss it.

“And what was your deal with the halter today? You’re cutting it closer every time.”

“There was no opportunity to bring it up before I did.” Armitage shrugged. “I don’t understand why you are so worked up about this. It worked out fine.”

“Of course” Kylo sighed, not interested in discussing this any longer. “I’m looking forward to the day when our roles are reversed and you are the one being sold at the market.” Which was something Kylo wasn’t sure was ever going to happen, for Armitage seemingly hadn’t managed to master that particular spell yet.

“Well, you made sure that you will not get to go to the market again. I can’t imagine anyone paying a good price for a beast with an ugly scar on its head. The Master won’t be pleased.”

“He could make it heal so it won’t leave a scar, if he cares as much about it as you say.”

Armitage only cocked his head and raised a brow. They both knew the Master would not allow Kylo to use magic to close the wounds. Armitage would lie about how he must have lost his temper, and bearing those scars would be his punishment. Not that he particularly cared about his appearance, but a scar on his face wouldn’t exactly enhance his likeability - and people never really liked or trusted him to begin with. So being the seller in the scamming routine they had going was out of the question from now on as well.

“We should head back, or we’re never going to make it back to the mill before sunset.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_Two and a half years earlier _

_ Eleven ravens were sitting on a bar, all of them holding their heads as if they were looking straight at him. There was room for one more on the left end of the bar. _

_ “Ben!” a disembodied voice called out. It sounded hoarse and airy, as if the wind ruffling the ravens’ feathers had carried it over a long distance. _

_ He didn’t dare to answer. _

_ A second time it called, “Ben!” and then a third time, this time with even more intent, if possible. “Ben! Come to the mill in the abandoned quarry near Corellia. Come, and you will benefit from it.” _

_ Then the ravens started to croak. “Obey the voice! Obey the Master! Obey the voice of the Master!” _

Startled Ben woke up, gasping for air. It took him a couple of seconds to get his bearings. He had been sleeping in the haystack above the stable he’d snuck into after noticing the recruiters in the tavern last night. There might come a time when he would have no choice but join the army on some side of this blasted war, but not just yet. He still had some money, and every other day he managed to leverage his strength in exchange for something to eat, which helped with saving the money which kept him out of the army. Alone, in the tavern, he would have been easy prey for recruiters. He’d lost count of how often he’d witnessed fools selling their souls to recruiters under the influence of one beer too many, so he decided to avoid that particular pitfall by hiding. There were days when he knew he couldn’t trust himself not to do something stupid, especially when alcohol put him in a maudlin mood. Those recruiters were seeking fresh blood for the Emperor’s army, and considering the resentment he harbored for the Republic, he knew he would be sorely tempted to join the Emperor’s army if for no other reason than to spite his family.

After he’d assessed the situation he found himself in after waking, he allowed his thoughts to drift back to the dream. This was the fifth night in a row he’d had this dream, and he seriously considered going to that quarry to see what, or who, was calling him. His subconsciousness seemed to have made that decision some time ago, as he had unintentionally taken a route which would lead him near Corellia. He’d never been in the area before, but his father had been raised around there; Ben recognized the villages’ names from his father’s tales. He could reach Corellia in less than a day from here. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep anytime soon again, and seeing that the night was clear enough to allow travelling as long as he stayed out in the open, he packed his meager belongings and set out to where the dream had called him.

Ben asked for directions in every other village. The usual landmarks people told him to look for were covered in snow. Even when they weren’t, he had to walk with his head bowed low to avoid the harsh wind and snow battering his face.

Corellia, as it turned out, was not particularly remarkable. Bleak-looking houses and barns lined the streets on both sides; snow piled up towards the windowsills. The acrid smell of smoke from the chimneys caused his nose to wrinkle and gave the town a gloomy air. On a small pond, children were skating and amusing themselves, but there was no mill to be seen. When an old man walked past him, Ben asked him about the whereabouts of it.

“We don’t have a mill in Corellia,” the man told him.

“And in the neighboring areas?”

“Well, there is one...” The man pointed over his shoulder. “In the old quarry, at the black water but – “

The old man paused suddenly, and swallowed. “You wouldn’t want to go there, my lad. Be warned, that place is haunted.”

Ben hesitated briefly, but then thanked the old man and briskly strode out of the village. The light was fading fast and the woods were thick between him and the mill. He picked up his pace. Haunted places didn’t scare him. His uncle would probably say that’s where he belonged too, since in his uncle’s eyes he was possessed by the devil.

Soon twilight fell, and with it a fog started to waftbetween the trees. Ben shivered – wouldn’t it be wiser to turn back? He could barely see where he was walking, but he was far too stubborn to let it deter him. After some time, he reached a clearing, and right as he stepped onto it, the fog lifted allowing the moon to bathe everything in its cool light. Finally, he saw the mill on the other side of the clearing, huddled in front of a steep wall of stone, dark and menacing - like a predator poised to strike its prey.

Ben shook his head to clear his thoughts. He was being ridiculous. It was just a mill, after all. He wouldn’t be able to find his way back through the dense forest in the darkness, so he might as well go to the mill and ask to stay the night. He knocked on the door: once, twice – but heard no sound from inside; no barking dog; no creaking staircase; no footfalls. He knocked a third time, and when no response came, he tried the handle. The door opened, and as he walked into the dark hallway, he noticed a faint light spilling out from under a door at the other end. It was eerily silent, and he felt compelled to stealthily approach the door; careful not to make any sound. He peeked into the room-- through a small gap between the door and the frame-- and managed to catch glimpses of what appeared to be a study, lit only by a single candle resting in the middle of a huge desk. Behind that desk sat a man reading in a thick leather bound book, his face cast in shadows. As if sensing Ben’s presence, he suddenly looked up and stared at the door. The eye Ben had pressed against the gap started to itch and water, and he stepped back to rub it.

“There you are!” a hoarse voice whispered, and the door sprung open. Ben’s heart hammered like mad, and he had to will his legs not run out of this strange place. The man slowly rose from his sitting position, a candle in his right hand. He was tall - even taller than Ben, who towered over everyone he knew - with skin that appeared almost translucent in the candle’s light, the shadows flicking over haggard features, and deep scars on his left cheek as well as on his forehead.

“I am Snoke, the master of this mill. You can apprentice here – I could use an extra set of hands at this place. Are you interested?” the man said as he glided towards Ben.

“Yes, I am,” Ben heard himself say. His voice sounded foreign to his own ears, as if it belonged to a stranger.

“What should I teach you? Just the miller’s craft - or everything else as well?”

“Everything else as well,” Ben answered.

At that the Master held out his left hand. “Let’s shake on that!”

Ben extended his left hand, mimicking the Master.

“From now on, you will be called Kylo,” Snoke said, and when their hands touched, a muffled rumbling started deep down in the earth and a quake shook the building. Startled, Ben wanted to run outside, but the Master gripped his hand even harder and with a step around him, he barred the exit.

“The mill,” he called out loud, “she’s grinding again!”

As soon as the floor stopped rolling, he led Ben up to the attic of the mill, where the men working at the mill bunked. Ben counted twelve empty cots lined up along the walls, each covered by a straw mattress. Next to each cot was a locker and a stool. The crumpled blankets, as well as some knocked over stools and fallen shirts, suggested that whoever slept in the room must have been woken up abruptly and rushed out of the door.

Only one cot was unslept-in with a bundle of clothes sitting neatly folded at its foot end.

“Your cot and clothes,” the Master said curtly, jerking his chin toward the cot, before he left, taking the only source of light with him. The long day finally caught up with Ben, and he sunk down on the cot wearily. As soon as his head touched the pillow, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_September _

He spread his wings, letting the warm wind caress his feathers. He soared higher, letting himself be carried upwards by the current. Up here, flying like this, Kylo could almost forget that he was not truly free to go wherever and whenever he pleased. Hard to believe that someone could control the comings and goings of a being capable of roaming the sky, and yet it was possible. He never tried to leave - he had nowhere else to go after all. Some of his fellow journeymen had tried though, and realized that no matter what direction or form they left in, at the end of the day they would end up by the quarry where the mill stood, with the Master waiting for them and mocking them. He resigned himself to the knowledge that the only way to leave the mill for good was feet first, and that he might meet this fate sooner than later.

Today, the Master had been in an unusually good mood. He had called Kylo into his study, complimented him on his progress in mastering the Dark Arts while implying that he was aware of Kylo’s motives behind his zeal for learning. Even so, he granted him the privilege of an afternoon off each Saturday as a reward for his accomplishments. Kylo knew that this was some form of test, but was not sure for what and how he should react to pass said test. He thanked the Master, but tried to refuse the offer because he thought it unfair to the other men working at the mil. He wanted to stay and work instead, but Snoke brushed his objections aside and practically ordered him gone for a couple of hours.

Right now, Kylo simply enjoyed his temporary freedom by soaring high in his favorite form. Normally, he only transformed into the form of a raven while being taught. Every Friday evening all twelve students living at the mill assembled in the Master’s study transformed into ravens, and sat perched on bars in front of the Master’s desk, while the Master lectured them by reading from the _ Koraktor _, which they were never allowed to even touch or read by themselves. Snoke would repeat the words and how to perform a certain spell three times in a row, before every one of the students was given the chance to voice the words of the spell. At first, Kylo had been confused by that method of teaching, but he soon learned to memorize the spells quickly. From time to time, the Master would send them out in small groups to give them the chance to exercise applying what they have learned. During his first outings, Kylo had enjoyed himself immensely. The older men entertained him with anecdotes, and he reveled in the feeling of belonging, and the camaraderie in the group. The more tasks he’d been set to perform, the more he became aware that what seemed to be simple pranks to them were actually hurting people. Disobeying the Master and refusing to do what they’d been tasked with, or even altering some of the parameters was not an option, as the Master seemed to have eyes everywhere and the repercussions for disobedience were severe.

Part of the reason why he liked transforming into a raven was that nobody tried to hunt and control them, mostly due to superstition. Ravens were believed to be harbinger of bad news, and so people tended to stay away from them. Sure, the occasional stone might be thrown his way, but for the most part, he was left alone. Plus, certain restrictions other animal forms had, such as only being able to transform back at will only without a halter or leading-rope, did not apply to his raven form.

When the initial rush of adrenaline at flying unsupervised had worn off, Kylo started to keep an eye out for a place he could use to practice some spells. The small abandoned cottage at the edge of the wood between the quarry and Corellia came to mind, and he decided to fly there and inspect it.

To his surprise, he saw someone working on the roof of the small building as he drew near. A slim figure was pulling up bundles of thatch with a rope. Curious as to who was living there now, he landed on the ridge pole, and was taken aback when he realized that it was a young woman working on the roof. She had her skirts gathered up and held in place with a belt in order to climb without them getting in the way, putting her stocking-clad calves on display. He let out a surprised croak, and her head snapped up to look at him. By god, she was beautiful. Big hazel eyes under arched eyebrows; a wide forehead; a straight nose covered in freckles; and rosy lips – all those features aligned in perfect harmony to give her face a stunning beauty.

“Shoo!”

She tossed some straws in his direction, and he humoured her by hopping back,letting out another croak. After all, no raven would ignore straws being tossed at it, but he didn’t take flight.

“Oh, but you are a bold one,” she said with a smile. He’d thought her beautiful before, but her smile made her appear positively radiant. “Just don’t get in my way.”

He croaked again and snapped his beak a couple of times in response.

“All right, in that case, you can stay.”

Entranced he watched how she deftly hoisted up the bundles of thatch, beat them in form, laid and fastened them to the roof structure with a straw rope, climbed down the ladder leaning at the side of the building to tie more bundles one rope and climb up to start the whole process again. This was men’s work, exhausting and energy-sapping as he knew from experience - and yet here she was, this lithe creature, performing the tasks with assured movements.

From time to time she would toss some remarks his way. “Fly down and bring me up some more bundles, would you?” or “I don’t suppose you could lend me your beak to hold down this knot?”. The way she spoke didn’t sound like she was from Corellia. Instead, it reminded him of the way his mother used to speak. Even her hairstyle, though not as intricate as his mother’s coiffure usually were, reminded him of his childhood. He remembered seeing someone wearing their hair in three buns before, but he couldn’t really place this vague memory, until the woman pulled out a knife to cut back some too long straws. Of course! He faintly heard the echoes of a female voice shouting at someone about hurting him, and saw glimpses of hand holding a knife sweeping up to cut him loose, accidentally injuring his face in the process. She had accompanied that travelling trader. Kylo wondered why she’d come back to live in Corellia, or if she had even left the town since that day.

He was sad, when the sun started to sink behind the horizon and the twilight of dusk making it impossible for her to continue her work. When she started to gather her tools, he took off with one last croak, and vowed to come back here next week to himself. The girl was an enigma he wanted to know more about.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ Two and a half years earlier _

“What are we going to do today?” Kylo asked.

It was the day of Corellia’s Spring Feast, and they had the day off. The Master hadn’t said anything about it, but it seemed to be a tradition at the mill. Kylo was excited. He’d been working hard since he arrived at the mill. He had been tasked with doing the work nobody else wanted to do, as was customary for apprentices. He’d had to filter flour, move the grain in the storage room to prevent it from germinating, sweep the barn, chip wood, shovel snow, carry water into the kitchen, groom the Master’s horses, muck out the stables – and the constant hard physical labor left him with a bone deep exhaustion that never seemed to ease up.

He admired the journeymen. The work they did was no less exhausting, but they never seemed to grow weary. They carried sacks full of grain or flour as if they weighed nothing, going through their work day with quips on their lips and good-natured teasing. He’d always been tall, but he was lanky and not as well-muscled as they were. He thought his physique was changing due to the physical labor, but maybe that was just wishful thinking. The same set of clothes he had been given on his first day at the mill still fit him, so the change couldn’t be as noticeable as he thought it was.

When the general consensus after breakfast was that they were going back to sleep, he was relieved, but also curious as to why everyone wanted to spend the whole day sleeping, while it was a lovely spring day. It seemed like wasted.

“You’ll see,” was the only answer he got. “Now go and try to sleep.”

He clamped down on the familiar feeling of anger coiling in his gut. Why couldn’t he ever get a straight answer to one of his questions? He knew he was the newest member of the community and had yet to prove his worth, but that alone should not be the sole reason for the constant patronizing behavior everyone showed him.

It took him a while to fall asleep again. He felt like he had just drifted off to slumber whenMitaka woke him up, telling it was evening and to come and eat. He thought the others were pulling his leg again, but the setting sun convinced him otherwise.

They were always given plenty of food at the mill. They worked hard, after all, and the Master honored that, but today’s meal was unusually rich, even by their standards.

“Eat as much as you can,” Mitaka, who was mainly in charge of the kitchens, advised him. “You are going to need it, trust me.”

Kylo nodded, when it became clear that Mitaka wasn’t going to elaborate further, and tucked in.

As soon as the twelve men had finished their meal, the Master came into the room, holding twelve straws in his hand. While reciting some ritualistic phrases about getting a mark, he had them draw a single straw each. Those who drew straws of matching lengths teamed up and left the mill together. Kylo was glad that fate had paired him with Canady.

Canady Ren was the senior journeyman and appeared to be the oldest of the men, although it could have just been that his head full of white hair and his thoughtful mannerisms gave him the air of being much older than he was. He had been kind to Kylo from the beginning, coming up to him often when Kylo was at the brink of complete physical exhaustion, placing a hand on his shoulder, letting his magic flow into Kylo’s weary muscles to invigorate them. The first time this happened, Kylo wanted to thank him profusely, but Canady shushed him and told him that he had to act as if he was barely able to stay on his legs, because he was not supposed to help him.

“The Master doesn’t take disobedience kindly,” he’d told him. “So act as if you are ready to drop dead any minute. Especially around Armitage.”

Canady motioned for Kylo to follow him outside. In silence they left the mill, until Canady stopped and signed him to wait while he went into the barn to retrieve two woolen blankets, before they continued their journey into the woods. The canopy of trees blocked out any light from the moon and stars, and it was pitch black. Kylo had to rely completely on Canady’s skills of navigation. Not that he could have helped, for nobody had told him where they were supposed to go.

“That’s Corellia,” Canady muttered when they saw lights shimmering between the trees on their left, but they continued to follow the street circling the village.

“Where are we headed to?” Kylo asked, curiosity overtaking his caution.

“To the Murder Stone,” the older man answered. “Each pair of us has to hold vigil at a place where someone died a violent death once. The Murder Stone marks the place where Dryden Voss was murdered many years ago. Most of us don’t go there because it’s too far from the mill.”

They followed the street until the next turn, where they found a slab of stone as tall as a man, without any inscription or ornaments standing in the shadow of a group of tall firs. Dryden Voss, whoever he had been, – and Kylo had the distinct feeling that he should know; if only he had paid better attention to his father’s stories – did not seem to be remembered fondly.

“And why are we here?”

“Because the Master wills it so,” Canady replied patiently. “Tonight is a night full of rituals. For the villagers dancing around the fire to celebrate spring, as well as for us. First, we have to build a small fire and hold vigil until dawn.”

Quickly, they set out and collected firewood. Once they had the fire going, they settled down, resting against the stone, wrapped in their blankets to hold their mostly silent vigil. From time to time, Canady asked Kylo whether he was cold, or told him to throw another piece of wood onto the fire. As the night progressed, Canady grew even more silent, and when Kylo turned to ask him a question he noticed him staring unblinkingly out into the adjacent moor. He neither stirred nor answered when Kylo softly called his name. He did not know much about magic yet, but he instinctively knew that Canady’s spirit had left his body and that he was vulnerable right now. He sat up straighter to ensure he wouldn’t nod off and could protect Canady should the need arise. He passed the time by arranging the firewood by size, searching for his favorite constellations, and stoking the fire. The night sky had already started to change its color, when Canady finally stirred again.

After a while he cleared his throat, and started to speak in a low voice, staring intently into the fire.

“I want to tell you about the girl I once loved. Her name was Paige.”

Kylo instantly felt a sense of dread. He noted Canady spoke in the past tense, and knew that it was to be a sad tale.

“Paige was beautiful and fierce. I never understood what she saw in me, but we had plans, she and I. We dreamed of a life together, even planned to marry. But then…her nightmares started. First, only every other night, but gradually the frequency increased, and at the end she hadn’t been able to sleep at all anymore, waking up screaming only minutes after she’d closed her eyes. In the end, death seemed to be the only salvation to her.” Canady related in a low and unsteady voice.

“She killed herself?” Kylo stated more than he asked, and Canady merely nodded.

“We millers at the dark mill are bad news for any girl interested in us, that’s a fact. I don’t want to scare you off–” Canady paused when Kylo snorted. No girl had ever been interested in him. He was simply too much: too tall, too lanky, too earnest, too easily angered. A scenario in which a woman developed feelings for him was as unlikely as hell freezing over. “Only make sure the Master never learns about her. It’s imperative he doesn’t know her real name nor her face. If he knows one of them, he can find her.”

“You think the Master caused her to have those nightmares?” Kylo said incredulously. 

Canady didn’t reply, but continued to stare into the flames.

“A stray thought about her in your dreams might be enough for him to learn what he needs to know. So to be safe, never have her tell you her real name. Never forget that.”

After having said this, Canady rose and kicked earth on the fire to extinguish it. Kylo followed suit, folded the blankets and wanted to leave, but Canady stopped him.

“Wait, we are not done yet! Come here.”

With a twig, he started to draw a pentagram into the ash.

“Do you know how to draw this?” Kylo nodded. “Show me.”

Kylo took the twig and drew the symbol next to Canady’s.

“Good, now pay attention.”

Canady took a piece of charcoal from the fire, and drew a pentagram on Kylo’s forehead with it.

“Receive the mark of the dark brotherhood,” he intoned, and motioned for Kylo to do the same.

“Now, we can go,” he said and they took to the road.

At the mill, the Master was already waiting for them at the door of the mill. A yoke had been placed in front of it, so they couldn’t pass under it upright. As Kylo watched Canady duck under the yoke and step through the door, the Master slapped Canady on the right side of the face.

“Never forget that I am the Master,” Snoke intoned, before he raised his hand again to slap Canady on the left side as well. “And never forget that you are the pupil.”

Canady nodded and the Master stepped aside to let him in, then looked up and motioned for Kylo to approach. He had an uneasy feeling in his gut, as if he was on the precipice of which there would be no turning back. After a moment’s hesitation, he stepped forward to duck under the yoke, and the Master smiled approvingly before he raised his hand.

Kylo and Canady had been the last to return, and as soon as Kylo entered the mill they all got to work. They shoveled grain into sacks, lugged them to the grindstone, filled the flour into sacks and hauled them to the barn – and this time all the men groaned under the weight in a way Kylo had never heard before. Even the usual quips and teasing were not to be heard. After a couple of hours, suddenly the sacks appeared to become lighter, and the other eleven men started to whoop.

“For another year now, all work we do between sunup and sundown will be easy and not exhaust us,” Mitaka, who was standing next to him, explained. “Now you know.”

“But how?” Kylo was confused.

“This is the power of the mark. Each year during the spring festival, we are to work without the aid of magic, until the dark sigil is cleared off our foreheads by our own sweat. Now come,” Mitaka said and put his arm around Kylo’s shoulder. “Let us go and celebrate.”


	2. Raven feathers sprout on me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being at the mill for nearly a year, Kylo realized that the mill held darker secrets than he could have imagined.

_ And raven feathers sprout on me_  
_ And like that I'm flying incognito_  
_ Over the borders into life_  
_ As fast as the wind over the land_  
_ And I break all rules_  
_ To be with you tonight_

_ Feel my raven heart, it's beating so  
Fast and for you only _

_Give you a raven feather_  
_ Pledge of our love_  
_ Remember me, I'll come back_  
_ Remember me holding it in your hand_

_ October _

He sat perched on the fence for a while, watching the girl stuff a sack with what appeared to be leftover straw from thatching the roof, and she’d yet to look up from her task. He longed to see her face, longed to see if she would be as beautiful as he remembered her to be. As her head was bowed low, and he wasn’t able to get a clear view of her.

“Caw!” he croaked, as he lost patience, hoping it would compel her to look up.

The new sound seemed to have penetrated her thoughts, because she slowly raised her head to see where the sound came from. When her eyes landed on his form, she stilled and cocked her head a bit.

“You’re back,” she stated. “Don’t deny it, I know it’s you.”

Today, she had covered her hair with a hood, he noticed, not without regret. The hood prevented tendrils of her hair to come loose and frame her beautiful face enticingly. He remembered that crows usually didn’t stare admiringly at humans, so he turned his head and started to groom his feathers to continue the illusion of being an actual bird.

“I wonder what made come back. There’s nothing here for you, no trinkets you could steal, no carrion for you to eat,” she muttered while she continued stuffing straw into the sack.

He hopped off the fence and walked closer, meandering around like a bird would.

“If you keep coming back, would you at least make sure nobody sees you? People are suspicious, you know. Me, being a stranger, living alone in a shack outside the village, and as a woman, no less. If they notice a lone raven in my vicinity, they might call you my familiar. Which would probably end with me being burnt at the stake.”

Kylo stilled. This hadn’t even crossed his mind. He’d only paid attention to not being followed by his Master. Thankfully, her cottage was rather out of the way, closer to the woods that the Corellians considered haunted than the town and not many people ventured out here. That had been one of the reasons why he’d considered practicing spells here. However, since he’d laid eyes on her last week, she’d been on his thoughts every waking minute, and practicing for the inevitable confrontation with the Master hadn’t seemed as pressing as usual.

“What do you think?” she asked, holding up the stuffed sack before her. “This will make me a fine mattress. It really paid off that I persuaded Mr. Antilles to give me some of his old grain sacks. He would have thrown them away anyway.”

She smiled proudly, reaching into a basket she had placed next to her on the bench and pulling out a needle to close the opening of the sack. While she sewed up her mattress, Kylo hopped onto what he thought was a pile of firewood. When she glanced up towards him, she smiled.

“Ah, you’re admiring my handcart. I know, looks like garbage, but all it needs is a little bit of love and attention.”

He couldn’t help but let out a doubtful squeak.

“You don’t believe me?” she laced her voice with mock indignation. “You’re just like Finn. He didn’t believe me either when he helped me bring it home. But then, Finn can’t repair anything for the life of him - one of the perks of being raised in the army, I guess.”

“Caw!” Who was this Finn, he wondered, dismayed.

“Just you wait and see! I’ll have it repaired in no time. After all, being able to repair seemingly unsalvageable things was the reason why Plutt kept me around, even when I scared off every soldier he wanted to whore me out to.”

A moment passed before her words sunk in, but when they did, anger coiled deep in his gut, hot like lava. Plutt clearly was one of the profiteers in the baggage train of the armies, providing the soldiers with everything they needed – be it horses, clothing, alcohol…or women. The thought of Plutt pimping out his beautiful scavenger made him want to put his fist through Plutt’s face - or worse. Not even the memory of him stepping on Plutt’s leg and crushing it was able to soothe him.

He needed to give his anger an outlet, so he took off in a rush of furiously beating wings and a loud croak. Looking back down, he spotted a mouse running towards the shack, probably flushed out by the ruckus he made. He focused on it and swooped down, landed and grabbed its tail with his beak. The mouse squeaked and squirmed, and the tail slipped through, but his head snapped forward again and he pecked at the mouse until he got hold of the tail again. He wasn’t able to hurt Plutt, but this mouse was a more than welcome substitute for him.

“I think I should keep you around, no matter what the Correllians think of it. Thank you,” the girl said, surprised and grateful that he was taking care of the vermin.

He continued to drag the mouse towards the woods, while walking backwards. Every so often the tail would slip, and he would peck viciously at the mouse until he got hold of it again. By now, the mouse was bleeding from several wounds. He had no interest in eating the mouse himself, but the smell of its blood would make sure some predator would hunt it down once he let it go after a safe distance. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ 22 months earlier _

Winter made its entrance late in the year with a heavy snowstorm, and Kylo felt transported back to his first days at the mill, when he had to shovel snow without the help of magic. Like then, he was the only one working outside, and he was secretly glad about it. The shorter the days grew, the more tense the atmosphere in the mill became. The eleven journeymen grew more sullen with every passing day, and it became increasingly harder to get along with them, often butting heads even at the slightest provocation. At first, Kylo had chalked that up to being cooped up indoors more than usual, now that the cold weather prevented them from escaping outside to do repair work on the mill. After he was nearly beaten up by the normally stoic Edrison for throwing a snowball at him, he knew something else was up. Just like his first days at the mill, Kylo was left in the dark.

Canady was still the friendliest of the group; but even he appeared more sad and withdrawn.

“What is going on with everyone?” Kylo asked Canady a couple of days before the year ended, after his head had nearly been bitten off once again because a seemingly harmless remark he’d made.

“We’re afraid,” Canady shared, looking past Kylo with unfocused eyes.

“Of what? I don’t understand!”

“We’re not supposed to talk about it. But you will know soon enough,” he said. He laid his hand on Kylo’s shoulder and squeezed it briefly. “You are the only one with nothing to fear. Not yet, anyway.”

The last day of the year was a silent one. Nobody spoke, and the Master was absent the entire day, which was not an unusual occurrence. He often vanished for days on end without telling them where he went. Armitage once accompanied him and claimed Snoke was advising the Emperor on his war tactics – but they all took Armitage’s words with more than just a grain of salt.

The silence at the mill was oppressive, and everybody was restless. Nobody had elaborated on the source of the men’s collective angst, which fueled Kylo’s general sense of resentment and anger. When he felt he was about to explode in rage, he ventured outside to find something to work off his anger. He decided to go and chop some wood in the barn, which would put some distance between him and the other men, as well as let him work off some of the steam his heated thoughts produced.

Kylo worked through the cord of stacked logs with almost frightening speed. Gone were the days where he had been the weakest of the men at the mill. He always had been the tallest, and after a whole year of hard physical labor – even with the help of magic – coupled with the quantity and quality of the food they were given by the Master, had made him bulk up considerably. He was no longer lanky but was well-muscled and strong as an ox.

Slowly, he felt his anger seep away, and he stopped to stack the large pile of firewood he had produced. He turned, looking for the best place to stack it, and stilled. Under the window sill, covered by canvas was a huge object he’d never noticed before. Curious, he stepped closer and lifted the cover, only to drop it as if it was a hot poker.

Hidden under the canvas was a coffin.

An ear-piercing scream, followed by a dull thud woke Kylo from the fitful sleep he had sunk into that night, after trying and failing to work himself into exhaustion. Startled, he sat up in bed and tried to discern what was going on. He lit the candle placed on the floor at his bedside with a wave of his hand and saw that everyone had woken up. Some of the men were sitting up in bed and looking around like he was, but nobody tried to investigate what had happened. His heart skipped a beat when he became aware that Canady’s bed was empty, and dread settled in his stomach, heavy like lead.

“No!”

He nearly choked on his cry, swinging his legs off the bed and moving towards the door as fast as he could, but before he could reach it, arms closed around his midriff from behind.

“Calm down, Kylo! There’s nothing you can do!” Mitaka exclaimed, panting from the effort of holding Kylo back.

“What do you mean, there’s nothing I can do? Canady might be hurt and in need of help! Let me go!”

Thanisson joined Mitaka who clearly struggled to hold Kylo back, and laid both hands on his shoulders, trying to get Kylo to focus on him.

“There’s nothing we can do. Nothing at all. Whatever happened to Canady, he is beyond our help now.”

“You can’t be serious!” Kylo shouted, and renewed his struggles to break free.

“The door is bolted from the outside anyway. Believe me, there’s nothing you can do.” Mitaka’s voice was laced with pain. “We’ve all been there before.”

With a roar, Kylo broke free and stumbled to the door, which was bolted from the outside, just as Mitaka had said. He rattled the door latch, but to no avail. With an anguished, animalistic cry, he slid down into a sitting position and stared accusingly at the other men.

“You knew this would happen!” he seethed.

“Yes. But we had no idea to whom it would happen. This is how it is here at the mill. There’s nothing you can do about it,” Thanisson retorted and headed back to his bed.

They found Canady the next morning, lying face down at the bottom of the stairs.. His neck was broken. Kylo knelt down next to him, rolledhim on his back and closed the lifeless eyes of his friend.

“Bring him out to the barn,” Mitaka ordered. “I’m going to take care of him. It’s best we bury him this afternoon, before the weather gets worse again.”

“The Master isn’t here,” Kylo started. “Wouldn’t he –“

“We don’t need him here for this!” Edrison interjected harshly.

When they brought Canady out to the Waste Plain, a grave had already been dug. Its walls were covered with ice and the dug-out earth covered by snow. The grave had been prepared at least a day ago, when Canady had still been alive.

In silence, the coffin was lowered into the grave. In silence, the grave was filled up with earth once again. In silence, the men returned to the mill, one by one. Kylo was the last one standing in front of the new grave, wondering what exactly was going on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ October _

It was his afternoon off, and Kylo longed to stretch his wings and fly to his scavenger’s cottage. Unfortunately, he knew that the following night would be a new moon, and thus a busy night for him. He needed to rest and sleep in preparation for that. Though the Master had ordered him out of the mill on his afternoons off, he decided not to stray too far and went to a meadow near the quarry, where he practiced some spells. He decided to practice a wizard’s duel scenario, and which animal forms would come in handy in one. If the wizard he fought turned into a mouse, he could turn into a cat. If his rival turned into a cat as well, he could turn into a cock and peck out the cat’s eye. He tried to follow this pattern, but without someone to bounce ideas off, his thoughts soon ran in circles. Kylo decided that it would be better to rest anyway. He took out his warm coat and wrapped himself up in it before he laid down in the grass to take a nap.

As expected, the following night a canvas-covered wagon pulled by six black horses arrived at the mill. The wagon was driven by a tall man, clad in black from head to toe, his coat collar turned up and hat worn low. The feather in his hat was bright red like a flame, and swayed like one in the night breeze. They had no idea who he was; the Master called him the Goodman. He appeared every new moon and made them work through the night, which meant they had to slave away without magic easing their labors.

The Goodman was the only outsider to ever come to the mill. No peasant ever brought them grain, and nobody ever came to buy the flour they ground day in and day out. None of them questioned what happened to the flour they ground, or where the grain came from. Kylo had long ceased to wonder about the futility of their daily work. As Canady once pointed out, they would go crazy if they had nothing to do all day, and that was how it had always been at the mill.

Silently they rushed between the wagon and the mill, unloading the bulging sacks, hauling them up to the sack floor where they emptied them into bins without ever seeing their content.

Which was irrelevant anyway, for they were millers, and millers ground corn into flour.

When the Goodman became impatient with the progress they made, he let his whip crack over their heads. There was no need to talk – they were so used to working together that every single one of the twelve men knew exactly what needed to be done. Maybe that was their real purpose and the work they usually did was just an exercise so they could perform well on the nights the Goodman requested their service.

And the Master? The Master, usually so self-assured and dominant, acted submissive, and bowed and scraped before the Goodman. While the eleven journeymen and the apprentice slaved away, he sat in the coach box with the Goodman, only to leave when the sacks all had been unloaded and emptied. The Master personally opened the sluice gate to the wheel. They used a special grindstone whenever the Goodman came by. After the silence, in which they’d worked to unload the wagon, the chatter and rumble of the mechanical workings was almost nerve wracking.

During his first year at the mill, Kylo had to clean the room with that particular grindstone, as apprentices are wont to do. But instead of kernel and spelt, he found uniform buttons, molars and bone splinters on the floor next to the grindstone. He had been shaken to his core, but Canady Ren told him to forget what he’d seen.

And he had.

Only when the noises coming from the masticator became particularly jarring did he remember and wonder.

Then their work began again, this time in reverse, it seemed. This time they filled the sacks below on the ground floor, and carried them back to the wagon. When they were done and the Goodman left, a cock heralded the dawn. As he gazed at the wagon’s trail, Kylo noticed its wheels left no mark in the dew-damp grass, despite the heavy load.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ October _

Thursday was market day in Corellia. This time the Master sent Kylo and Mitaka; not to run one of their usual scams, but to buy provisions. Mitaka, as the one in charge of the household and cooking, knew what they needed to buy, and Kylo was tasked with making sure they got a good price on everything. The Master did not think highly of Mitaka’s skills. After all, he seldom managed to repeat spells during their lessons, and the good-natured friendliness with which he took the constant ribbing was seen as proof of a simple mind.

Early in the morning, they put the Master’s chestnut gelding in front of the cart, and left for Corellia. As soon as they exited the woods, Kylo’s gaze eagerly swept over to the ramshackle cottage whose occupant had dominated his thoughts recently. Maybe she was outside and he could get a glimpse of her? Much to his disappointment, they passed by without seeing her. Kylo still had hope of maybe being able to see her in Corellia proper. If Mitaka noticed him searching for someone in the gaggle of girls chatting at the well or turning his head towards young women sweeping door sills, he didn’t comment on it.

Sighing, he resolved not to get his hopes up for the drive home. If he expected nothing, he would not be disappointed. After all, it was only two days until he could fly over and watch her again.

Soon, he was far too busy to keep being on the lookout for her. Mitaka discreetly pointed out what they needed, and Kylo haggled to get good prices. From time to time, whenever a transaction went too smoothly, he suspiciously eyed Mitaka, but Mitaka only smiled delightedly, not giving away if he’d somehow had a hand in it.

In the end, they had a lot of goods to load onto their cart. The crisp morning temperatures had called for coats, but now the sun beat down on them and they carelessly tossed them into the cart before stacking their purchases onto the loading platform. Out of the corner of his eye, Kylo noticed Mitaka behaving strangely. He was just about to ask him whether everything was all right when he came across the explanation. Some of the girls had moved closer and were looking at them, whispering excitedly amongst themselves. His companion was trying his best to show off his muscles, which had them giggling and some even blushing. After all, two whole, well-nourished young men in their prime were not a common sight in Corellia, after nearly three decades of war ransacking the land for provisions and recruits.

Kylo smiled at Mitaka’s antics, shook his head, and continued to load the cart unperturbed by the onlookers. He was only interested in the attention of one particular woman, and he doubted she would even notice him. With his hands busy, his mind was free to roam and his thoughts immediately strayed to her. He wondered what she was up to on this fine morning. Why wasn’t she with the other young women? Did she have to work somewhere? There was so little he knew about her.

He was about to lift a salt barrel, when he looked up and his eyes fell on a familiar face – and time seemed to slow down. She was balancing a basket full of what appeared to be laundry on her hip, and seemed to be on her way back from the washing place down by the creek. The gaggle of giggling young women blocked her way, and while she maneuvered around them, she craned her neck to see what had them so excited, when her eyes met his. She stopped and shifted her basket onto her other hip.

Her garb was simpler than that of the other girls and clearly not new, but to Kylo she looked lovely. Her cap had slipped back, probably as she wiped her sweaty forehead, and some tendrils of hair were peeking out from under it. Her face was flushed, her lips parted, and he longed to kiss them. Her eyes were clearly resting on him; traveling down his torso, straying to his exposed arms, and snapping back up to his face. When she noticed him looking at her in return, she quickly looked down, and then shyly peeked up again through her lashes. Kylo straightened up and hoisted the barrel onto his shoulder, his gaze fixated on her form, a smile starting to spread over his face. She smiled in return, her head still bowed low, but then - with one last short glance at him - she continued on her way. Kylo stared after her, willing her to look back one more time – and right before she turned the corner, she did. He felt giddy and grinned like a fool. She had noticed him, and looked back at him. This was more than he’d ever dared to hope for.

When she had vanished, he remembered that he had work to do. He turned around to carry the barrel on his shoulder to the cart, when he noticed Mitaka’s gaze swinging back and forth between the corner where the woman had stood, and him. Dread spread through him, but the thought that Mitaka was nothing like Armitage appeased his fears. He was not the Master’s ears and eyes, but nobody at the mill could know about his feelings for this one special girl so he directed his gaze to the group of girls still ogling them, and smiled broadly at them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ 22 months earlier _

The days following Canady Ren’s burial, the Master was gone and time seemed to stand still at the mill. Kylo and the remaining ten journeymen spent their days lounging on their bunks, sitting around the warmth of the oven, but they didn’t talk much – especially not about Canady’s death. It was as if Canady had never existed.

At the foot of the now-vacated bunk sat a pile of clothes, neatly folded and stacked. Mitaka had washed them and brought them up after the burial, and now everyone desperately tried not to notice them.

Kylo knew that Canady’s death was neither an accident nor coincidence. Something was going on here, something no one had bothered to tell him – or dared to speak about. A lot of questions ran through his head, and the fact that he had nothing to do to distract him from them, made matters even worse. Only Mitaka was as busy as ever. He fired the oven, cooked and served them their meals, although not much actually was eaten.

On the sixth day of the new year the Master returned, looking even paler than usual. He only nodded and let his gaze sweep over them and did not seem to be fazed by, nor did he comment on Canady’s absence before he shut himself into his study. When they all went upstairs and into the bedroom earlier than usual that day, Kylo started to change into his sleeping clothes, but Thanisson stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder.

“No, you better change into your work gear,” he told him.

“Why? It’s nearly evening, and not a New Moon.”

“Trust me on this.” Thanisson pressed his lips together, as he tied his apron and put on his cap.

Shrugging, Kylo complied and put on his apron as well. A moment later, a low rumble began and the whole building started to shake.

“What is this, an earthquake?” Kylo asked no one in particular.

“Hurry up! Let’s get to work!” somebody shouted, and the other men all rushed down the stairs towards the grinding chamber. “Kylo, run up and open the sluice gate!” Thanisson called back over his shoulder. Kylo blinked and followed them down the stairs to do as asked.

When they finished work at midnight and returned to the bedchamber, Canady’s bunk was occupied by a wisp of a boy. Only the blond crown of his head peeked out from under the blanket. They gathered around him and Edrison put a hand on his shoulder to wake him up. Kylo dimly remembered having been woken up in a similar fashion during his first night at the mill a year ago. He felt transported back in time, remembering how scared he had been to see ghostly white figures gathered around his bunk – and just as he probably had, the boy shrieked and scooted as far away from them as possible.

“Don’t be afraid,” Edrison whispered soothingly. “We are journeymen and work here at the mill. Welcome! What’s your name?”

“Gideon,” the boy answered shyly after a moment of hesitation.

“Go back to sleep. You’ll get to know everyone tomorrow at breakfast.”

The next morning, when Gideon came down to have breakfast, he wore Canady’s clothes. They fit him as if they had been made for him, and the boy never asked whom the clearly not-new clothes had previously belonged to. Kylo was relieved, for he wasn’t sure he would have been able to listen to somebody explain Canady’s passing to the boy without showing his emotions – and showing emotions was simply not done at the mill.

Right after supper Gideon went straight to bed, not used to the hard work he had been subjected to all day. Kylo had been pleased that, for once, it wasn’t he who had to sweep the floors and pick the ice from the sluice gate, but that he could work with the others in the grinding chamber. On his way out to the storage room, he remembered his first days at the mill, when his workload hadn’t been eased by magic, and wanted to see how the boy fared - and help him like he had been helped - but Edrison had beaten him to it. When he looked into the barn, where the boy would sweep the flour from the floor – quite the impossible task if attempted without magic – he noticed the floor was already clean, and Gideon looked up at Edrison with big eyes and a slack jaw. Kylo chuckled, as he turned away. Apparently, they all went through the same stages of disbelief. No wonder, given that nobody actually explained things around here.

The Master called all ten men still sitting at the table after their meal into his chamber, which was unusual, as it was not Friday when lessons were due.

“Is there an apprentice amongst you?” the Master asked from his seat behind his desk, two candles casting shadows on his scarred face, and between them sat the Master’s tricorn and a small hand axe, one of the traditional tools of a miller.

Kylo didn’t comprehend that he was meant to answer this question, and only after Mitaka nudged him from behind did he reluctantly take a step forward.

The Master nodded, leaned back and steepled his fingers together as he eyed him from head to toe.

“What’s your name?” the Master asked him.

“Kylo,” he answered, puzzled about what was going on here.

“Is there anybody present who can vouch for him?” he questioned.

“I can,” Kaplan Ren announced and stepped forward to stand on Kylo’s right side. Kylo turned his head in astonishment. He wasn’t particularly close to the standoffish Kaplan, who had unanimously been voted senior journeyman by them at breakfast. “I vouch for him and his name.”

“Having only one guarantor is as good as worthless,” the Master replied, which caused Thanisson to step forward to Kylo’s other side.

“That’s true,” Thanisson admitted. “But two people willing to vouch for him is enough to bear witness. Hereby I render witness for this young man and his name.”

In the following, rather formulistic dialogue between the Master and the two journeymen standing next to him, it was established that Kylo had learned the miller’s craft and that he was sufficiently trained and knew all the intricacies of the craft. Kylo didn’t dare to speak up, but he lifted an eyebrow in surprise upon hearing that.

“You are willing to vouch for that?” the Master asked, his voice heavy with meaning.

“We are,” Kaplan and Thanisson confirmed simultaneously.

“Well then, that confirms the completion of Kylo’s apprenticeship here at the mill.”

The Master stood up, put the tricorn onto his head, reached for the hand axe and stepped around the desk until he stood in front of Kylo.

“According to the laws of the guild, I hereby announce your apprenticeship completed, and declare you a journeyman” he intoned, touching Kylo’s shoulders with the hand axe, before handing it to him and signaling him to attach it to his belt as an outward sign of his new status.

“You will be called Kylo Ren from now on, as you are part of the Brotherhood of Ren here at the mill.” After that, the Master dismissed them, and they filed out of the room.

Kylo was the last to exit the Master’s study, and just as he closed the door, somebody threw a sack over his head, and he felt as hands lifted him off the ground and carried him away.

“Stop! What’s going on?” he cried out as he struggled to free himself, but to no avail.

“Let’s get him to the grinding chamber!” Armitage shouted with glee, and the others laughed and continued to carry him into the grinding chamber, where they placed him down onto the floor and started to tumble him around.

“Let’s knead him, brothers,” someone shouted, laughing as he did so. “A journeyman has to be without spelt or blemish!”

Kylo completely lost any sense of orientation as he was pushed and spun around. They jabbed and prodded him, and he even received the occasional blow to the head.

“Stop that, Armitage,” Kylo heard Kaplan hiss. “We want to initiate him into our brotherhood, not kill him!”

When they finally pulled the sack off him, Kylo was nauseous and felt bruised all over, as if he had been ground like grain.

“Now he is a journeyman without blemish, one of the best,” Edrison announced, and once again, hands grabbed Kylo and threw him up in the air, only to catch him afterwards. In the meantime Mitaka opened a bottle of wine, and once he was placed back on the ground, they all took a cup of wine from Mitaka, lifted it and toasted to welcome Kylo as a journeyman into their midst.

Kylo held tight onto his cup, and sank back onto a stack of sacks, completely confused and tried to gather his bearings. Thanisson sat down beside him.

“Everything all right?” he inquired.

“Yes,” Kylo nodded. “No.” He shook his head. “How can I already be a journeyman? An apprenticeship has to last at least three years, as far as I know.”

“Ah,” Thanisson smiled. “But the first year at the Mill counts for three years. Not only that – you have aged three years, not just one! As you were already older when you arrived, the changes were not that visible with you. But watch Gideon closely. He barely has any down on his cheeks now and his voice still breaks. At the end of the year, I predict he’ll be able to grow a full beard.”

“That is not possible,” Kylo spluttered.

“By now you should know what sort of things are possible here at the mill,” Thanisson said as he stood up to fill his cup once again.


	3. Feel my raven heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another year passed at the mill, and Kylo's hatred against the Master festered, while the Master tried to find out which girl cought Kylo's eyes.

_He says: "Yes, now you belong to me_  
_ With neck and crop you are mine"_  
_ I wanted to flee filled with fear_  
_ His glance sets my teeth on edge_  
_ With one eye he now catches_  
_ You, you want to decay from fear_  
_ The other one underneath a patch_  
_ Black and yet can see everything_  
_ I feel so horribly naked_  
_ Spell by spell_  
_ He reads to us from the Koraktor_  
_ White scripture in the black book_

  


_ October _

Kylo was still elated by the moment the scavenger girl and him had shared at the market, when he spread his wings to take off from the mill on his next afternoon off. He fully intended to visit her again, but knew that watching her as a raven would not give him the same satisfaction, as having her look at him, really look at him, but he didn’t think he would ever get to meet her face to face again. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the Master stepping out of the mill when he took flight, and he made sure to fly over the quarry towards Drall, so he wouldn’t give away his true destination.

Drall was a picturesque little town without any notable infrastructure besides an inn. It didn’t have a weekly market; instead it was the sleepy and laid back atmosphere that drew lots of visitors. Amongst them Kylo didn’t attract any attention when he entered the inn for a drink. He wasn’t entirely sure whether he had been followed or not, so he leaned against the counter and eyed the other patrons, but nobody, neither humans nor animals sported scars reminding him of the Master. Just as he had a noticeable scar in every form he turned into, the Master wasn’t able to hide his disfigurement.

This detour to Drall had cost him half his afternoon, a fact which considerably dampened his mood, but seeing the girl working outside thrilled him when he finally arrived at her cottage. It wouldn’t do to waste the time he had left lamenting the time lost. It couldn’t be changed anymore. Instead, he reminded himself, he should focus on her and learn what she was up to. Today no hat nor hood covered her head, and he could see she had her hair pulled back into a row of buns at the back of her head, similar to when she’d been thatching her roof. A few curls had come loose and framed her face, and he itched to brush away one particularly obnoxious lock that fell into her eyes.

Since his last visit, a table had been placed in front of the bench, and currently she was skinning and gutting two hares on it. She must have seen his shadow when he flew over the cottage because she looked up immediately after he landed near her dung heap, and continued to stare at him with narrowed eyes, lips pressed together. After a moment, she reached into the bowl sitting on the bench beside her, and flung something towards him. When it hit the ground, mere inches in front of him, it made a squelching noise, and he jumped back as something wet splashed up. The coppery smell of blood wafted into the nostrils of his beak. She had thrown some of the hare’s innards his way, and he eyed them warily. A raven would have eagerly devoured them, but the mere thought of eating the raw innards made his stomach churn, and he turned his head away.

“Not in the mood for raw meat?” the girl asked in a terse voice. “Not your usual fare?” 

“Caw.” He hopped closer and gingerly picked at the raw meat.

“I can imagine they serve it cooked at the mill, don’t they?”

Kylo stilled. He must have misheard her.

“You know, they were talking about you and your men at the market. They warned the girls to stay away from all of you. They said you were dark magicians who lived at the mill in the haunted forest. Many stories were told that day, but one in particular stuck with me: The one that says you are able to turn into animals at will.”

She angrily twisted and pulled the hide off the hare’s carcass.

“You are easy to recognize, did you know that? You have the same scar on the right side, even as a raven. And you are rather big for one.”

If he could have winced, he would have done so as he watched her cut off the hare’s head rather forcefully. He didn’t need much imagination to see what she was thinking while doing it.

“Got anything to say?”

She chopped off the feet with just as much force.

“No?” she was breathing hard by now, in equal parts from exertion and anger, Kylo surmised.

With practiced movements, she started to gut the hare.

“It makes me wonder what it is that you seek here.” She pointed the bloodied knife at him. “And I’d really appreciate it if you’d answer me, wizard,” she spat at him.

Kylo looked around him. The garden was visible from the street, so he couldn’t just transform back right here, but the side of the cottage facing the forest was hidden from prying eyes. With one last croak, he spread his wings and flew towards the shadow there, and morphed back. He was going to talk to her. She deserved some answers, he supposed, and maybe an apology for his intrusion.

When he stepped around the corner, she whipped her head around, her eyes grew big and her jaw slack. Part of her must have not quite believed her words, even though she’d sounded very convinced when she’d scolded him earlier. It only took her a split second to raise the knife and hold it defensively in front of herself, and grab one of the chopped off paws of the hare with the other.

“That doesn’t work,” Kylo said in a placating voice.

“They don’t?” Her voice faltered.

“No. That’s just superstition. I mean, they are handy if you want to brush something away, but pretty useless in warding off evil spirits…or wizards.”

She briefly looked down at the hand holding the hare’s paw and chewed on her lower lip, before her head snapped up again. She held it up in front of her, just like the knife.

“How do I know if you’re telling the truth?” she snarled at him.

“You don’t. Either you believe me, or –“ Kylo shrugged, and tried to hide his amusement. She was fierce, his scavenger girl.

“What do you want from me, wizard?”

“Nothing. When I first came here I thought the cottage –,” he heard her snort at that word and couldn’t help but lift the corners of his mouth. It was more a shack than a cottage, after all, but calling her home thus seemed rather rude. “– was abandoned. Imagine my surprise when I saw you thatching the roof.”

“Why, because I’m a woman?” she asked defiantly and tilted up her chin.

“Partly, yes. I was intrigued why you would choose to live alone outside of the village and so close to the woods.” He held his hands out in a placating gesture. “It was curiosity that brought me back, not any nefarious purposes.” 

“And I should believe you?”

“I have no reason to lie to you.”

She snorted, but he also noticed that she was slowly lowering the knife, having decided that he was no imminent threat to her. He knew had to tread carefully though, or she would take on a defensive stance once again.

“I mean you no harm. It’s just - being able to see you was the highlight of the past few weeks for me,” he explained. “I owe you an apology for intruding. I understand if you feel uncomfortable being watched by me.”

“I don’t even know when you’ve been spying on me. Do you have any idea how violated I feel?”

“I swear, you always knew when I was around. I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable. It won’t happen again,” Kylo sighed, and walked past her, giving her a wide berth as he headed towards the road.

“Wait, where are you going?” she called after him.

He stilled and turned back to her, hunching over to look less intimidating. He knew how people perceived him with his towering frame, dark hair and the still reddened scar running down his face.

“I was under the impression that I was not welcome here, so–“

“You’re not,” she interjected.

He nodded, and started to turn again, ever so slowly, hoping she would address him again. And she did.

“So you really are a dark wizard?”

“I can perform magic, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“So you have a pact with the devil?” she inquired.

Kylo couldn’t answer her immediately, for he actually had no answer. The devil? In a way the Master was like the devil, but he knew that he was human – or had been, once.

“No. But I am bound to someone who might have such a pact. I don’t know for sure.”

“What sort of monster are you that you willingly bind yourself to someone like that? And for what?”

Kylo thought of all the misdeeds he had committed throughout his life, of all the people he had harmed, and bowed his head.

“A monster I might be, but believe me or not, I had no idea what fate awaited me when I came here. I was offered an apprenticeship as a miller, and I took it because I had nowhere else to go, and didn’t want to end up in the army, no matter the side. Should I have known something else was going on when I took the offer? Probably. The signs were there.”

When he looked up again, her stance had changed. Both her arms were hanging loosely at her side, although she still had the knife at the ready. The most important thing to him was that she was willing to listen.

“Such as?”

“I was told to come here in my dreams,” he shared. “Which was not unusual, for I have always had visions that came true. That’s one reason why –” he let his voice trail off, and noted that her eyes had gone wide when he mentioned his visions.

“Go on,” she urged him.

“And I was warned about the mill when I asked for directions. But back then I didn’t care. So I took on the apprenticeship and sealed my fate. Since then, I have been bound without a way to escape.”

“So you can’t just walk away from it all?” She involuntarily took a step closer to him.

“No. If I could, I already would have done so,” Kylo smiled sadly. “The only way out is death. And I have no say in that matter either.”

The girl took another step towards him. He noted that she didn’t seem to be angry anymore. Her whole demeanor had changed. She had been ready to bite off his head earlier, but she now looked at him with something akin to compassion.

“What’s your name?” she wanted to know.

“My na –” he hesitated. “They call me Kylo.” He continued after a moment.

“I’m –”

Kylo stopped her by holding up his hand and interrupted her quickly.

“Don’t. At the mill, knowing someone’s name can give you power over them. So you had better not tell me your name.”

She nodded tersely, her eyes roaming his face.

“May I come back to visit you?” he asked.

“I still don’t understand why you want to.”

“Because at the moment you are the only light in the darkness that my life has become. Knowing that I’m allowed near that light is the only thing that makes it all bearable.”

When she nodded her consent after a couple of moments, he felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he let out the breath he had been holding. He tipped his head, turned, and walked towards the forest. It was late already, and he started to feel the pull which commanded him to return to the mill.

Wanting to prolong his absence just a little bit longer, he decided to stop at the Waste Plain on his way home. He hadn’t been there since the New Year, since they’d put Thanisson’s body to rest. Funny how they all avoided that place, and avoided thinking of what possibly lay in store for them.

He slowly walked towards the place where he knew the graves of the mill’s deceased journeymen were, and picked up some flowers still blooming late in the year: yellow dandelions, blue chicory, and purple clover. He frowned when he saw the shallow, elongated mounds. They all looked the same, without markings or distinct features to distinguish between them. Where had they buried Canady, on the left or on the right side? It had been winter, and drifts of snow had covered all of the graves but the one in which they had buried their fellow journeyman in. He slowly walked along the line of shallow mounds and put one flower on each grave. He noticed he had picked one flower too many, and looked at it pensively.

“For the next one we are going to bury here –“ he murmured, his voice trailing off. The flower slipped through his fingers and drifted down to the ground, its blue twinkling in the green grass between the last of the graves and the edge of the forest.

“Having fun on your afternoon off?” Armitage grinned, but the way the other man stared at Kylo as he approached the mill belied his casual tone. Kylo only shrugged.

“I’d know better things to do than going to the Waste Plain if I had an afternoon off,” he announced. “Lots of pretty girls in Coruscant, if you know what I mean.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“I wouldn’t know,” Kylo replied. “I’ve never been there other than at our excursions to the market.”

“Huh, you really are a strange one. But let me give you a piece of advice: The dead are dead. This is especially true for everyone who dies here at the mill, for they will be forgotten as if they’ve never lived at all. That’s the only way the rest of us can survive. You better take that to heart.”

When Kylo saw a shadow move behind the window of the Master’s study, he nodded and arranged his face into a semblance of a grin.

“So, what’s for supper?”

_ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ _

_ Ten months earlier _

The year was about to end, and once again the atmosphere at the mill changed, the bickering between the journeymen turned from its usual teasing to making cranky jabs at each other. Nary a day passed in which minor misunderstandings weren’t almost solved by flying fists. Kylo thought back on the end of his first year at the mill and how it ended. He remembered the graves out by the Waste Plain, and wondered if one of them wouldn’t be sitting amongst his brothers at the breakfast table the next morning. Now, a year later, he understood the fear, and shared it.

Gideon had it hard these days. The boy had no idea what had changed, and why his attempts at lightening the mood were met with angry retorts and rebukes. When Kylo found him outside, furiously wiping his eyes upon noticing his approach, he was reminded of how much younger the apprentice was. Gideon had grown at least two hands since he arrived, and as Thanisson had predicted, he had begun shaving when summer turned to autumn. Nevertheless, he still appeared to be more boy than man.

Kylo walked up to him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I know it is hard at the moment. It will get worse before it’s going to be better again. But we all know that something is going to happen, and we are worried. It has nothing to do with you, so don’t hold it against us.” He tried to console Gideon without actually telling him anything. The boy would learn about the darkest secret of the mill soon enough, so why trouble him earlier than necessary?

Gideon questioned him further, glad to have finally found someone who offered at least some information, but Kylo only squeezed his shoulder, turned and went into the barn. He had to check and see it with his own eyes. And as expected, he found a coffin in the back of the barn, covered with canvas.

Kylo stood in front of it with his hands balled into fists, breathing heavily. He had known. Of course he had known, how couldn’t he, with the fear of his brethren being palpable and taking on a life of its own. He had hoped, though – hoped that Canady’s death had indeed been an accident, but that hope had been crushed to dust upon finding the coffin. He still wanted to know the reason for it all. Why was it that every New Year someone had to die? Why had nobody ever thought to do something against it?

When he exited the barn, having worked off the frustration he felt on a pile of logs, he noticed movement on the edge of the wood. Shadowing his eyes, he looked more closely, and recognized Thanisson emerging from the forest, carrying a shovel over his shoulder. He walked slowly, as if bowed down by a huge burden, and Kylo was about to call out to him, when realization hit. Thanisson was coming back from the Waste Plain. There was only one reason to be out there today of all days. When he passed Kylo on his way back to the barn, he looked up briefly and their eyes met. Thanisson nodded his head and looked down, defeated, his face pale as ashes – and Kylo’s breath hitched.

After a few hours of fitful sleep, Kylo woke up and listened. It must have been midnight, when he heard it: a thunk somewhere in the house, a muffled cry – and then, nothing. Kylo didn’t need to light a candle to know which bunk would be empty. Edrison seemed to have read the signs as well. Hearing the normally stoic man sobbing in the dark caused tears to burn in Kylo’s eyes, as well. He pulled his blanket over his head, dug his fingers into the straw mattress, and wished it all to be over already.

They found Thanisson lying in the mill chamber the next morning, the weighing beam on top of him, his neck broken. Edrison, somehow more composed now, lifted the beam off Thanisson’s body without making a sound. Only when Mitaka and Kaplan stepped closer in order to carry the body out into the barn did a whimper escape his lips, and they stepped back. Edrison and Thanisson had been close, closer than brothers. They were an unbeatable team, so in tune with each other that they needed no words to communicate. Watching Edrison kneel down next to Thanisson, rolling him onto his back, brushing the hair plastered to his forehead back and closing his eyes with a tender gesture. Kylo thought that the beam had not only felled one man that night. Carefully Edrison cradled Thanisson in his arms, and carried his body out, and stayed at his side while Mitaka prepared him for burial.

In the afternoon they bore the coffin out to the Waste Plain, where once again they found an open grave waiting for it. Hastily they lowered the coffin into the grave, hastily they closed it, and hastily they left it and returned to the mill.

Only Edrison stayed behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ October _

“Are you going to Corellia?” Armitage asked, as Kylo prepared to leave the mill, casually leaning against the wall next to the door.

“I don’t have concrete plans,” Kylo shrugged. “I guess I’ll just see where the currents lead me. Why do you ask?”

“I’m just curious about what you do on your afternoons off. You never tell us,” Armitage replied offhandedly. Kylo knew him too well to be fooled by his uninterested stance, and tried not to let his eyes wander towards the window of the Master’s study, where he suspected Snoke was listening.

“Last week, I flew to Drall to enjoy a beer at the tavern. Maybe today I’ll go to Talus. There should be more to see there. Drall was a bit dull, to be honest,” Kylo offered. “Want me to bring you anything back?”

“Nah, but thanks for the offer,” he declined, straightened up and went inside again.

Kylo sighed. Now he’d have to fly to Talus, just in case.

On his way to Talus, Kylo paid attention to every living being he encountered, but concluded that he wasn’t being followed. He turned back towards Corellia after two thirds of the way. When he finally changed back into his human form at the edge of the forest near the girl’s cottage, out of view from the street, he was startled by loud cracking noises. He frowned and hastened to the cottage to see what was going on.

When he entered the garden, he saw that that huge logs had been deposited next to the fence. Only when the young woman straightened up from bending down behind them, did he notice her. She held and axe and studied one of the logs, apparently figuring out how best to chop it.. He cleared his throat to make himself known.

“I didn’t think you actually would come back,” she stated, and brushed the hair from her sweaty forehead. This time, she had her hair braided back and wore a simple, and in places torn, brown dress.

“I came to lend a hand,” he smiled.

“I don’t need your help. I’m perfectly capable of handling this myself.”

Having said this, she lifted the axe and let it fall down onto the log in one swift swoop.

_ Crack! _

Well, that explained the noise.

“I can see that,” he conceded. “I’m only offering to help you save some time. But I’m just as comfortable watching you chop that wood.” He made a show of settling down next to the fence, and she threw him a nasty look.

“Just say the word if you change your mind. Or if you think of something else for me to do.”

_ Crack! _

She groaned as she pulled the axe free from the log, and straightened up to deliver another blow.

_ Crack! _

The log split in half. She knew what she was doing, that much was clear, but Kylo noticed the signs of fatigue. She needed to take a break, and he hoped she would do so before she hurt herself.

“Do you even know how to do this, wizard?” she challenged him.

“You forget I am a miller, too.”

“I didn’t think chopping wood was something millers do.”

“Ah, you’d be surprised. Why do you think the hand-axe is part of the miller’s guild insignia?”

“It is?”

Kylo nodded and stood up again.

“Let me show you,” he said and held out his hand for the axe.

After a moment’s hesitation - in which she probably pondered the wisdom of handing the axe over to him - she conceded, loosened her grip on the handle and let it slip through her fingers in a smooth motion, before she closed her fingers again, turned the tool around and held it out to him.

When he’d taken it, she stepped back with a mocking bow and a flourishing arm motion.

“All yours, wizard.”

Kylo suppressed a smile when he stooped down to reach for a log and bring it into position. He straightened up, took aim, and with one powerful swoop, he split the log completely through. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, noticed her disbelieving expression, and tried not to appear too smug. After he’d repeated this a few times, she shuffled her feet.

“All right, you know how to do this,” she murmured, and went inside.

Kylo was sad to see her go, but he consoled himself that he was able to do something to help her, and that this should be enough - and more than he could expect, given the situation.

As he worked through the logs and started to sweat, he shed his outer clothing and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. The girl stayed in the house, but he could have sworn he saw her watching him through the curtains from time to time, and wondered if she was monitoring his progress, or if she was watching him the way the girls at the market had. That thought pleased him tremendously, if he were honest.

Chopping wood needed focus, and Kylo only noticed that the girl had stepped outside again, when she offered him something to drink. Grateful, he took the tankard she held out to him. His fingers brushed against hers, and her eyes snapped up to his. The skin on her hands was calloused from work, but still softer than his, and he was loathe to let them slip away. To mask his disappointment, he took a large swig from the watered-down beer she’d offered.

“I’ve prepared a stew for later,” she offered. “Judging by the speed you are working through this, it will be ready by the time youare finished.”

When Kylo didn’t answer, but kept watching her, wondering if he might have misinterpreted what she had said, she continued. “You will stay and eat with me, won’t you?”

“I don’t want to impose–,” he said haltingly.

“You aren’t. I’d love to have company. Besides, I’d feel bad if you didn’t at least eat with me.”

“I get plenty of food at the mill. It’s one of the few good things about being there, so you really don’t have to–” Kylo trailed off. He was torn; staying meant spending more time in her company, but he suspected she might not have many provisions, and didn’t want to put a dent in them.

“Please?”

Her hopeful face disarmed him. He smiled and nodded, then ducked his head and returned the now empty tankard. With something to look forward to, he attacked the remaining logs with renewed vigor, now joined by the girl, who stacked the chopped blocks neatly against the wall of the cottage. They didn’t talk, but worked in companionable silence, and Kylo thought that he had never enjoyed working more than today in the presence of this beautiful woman.

Kylo had to stoop so he wouldn’t hit his head on the doorframe when he entered the cottage. He toed off his boots in the small hall and hung his jacket on the peg next to the open door leading into the kitchen. The other door was closed. It led to the sleeping chamber, he supposed. He looked around curiously as he followed her into the kitchen. It was very simple; a table and two chairs under the window, a threadbare curtain, a cupboard, a basket full of sewing things sitting next to it, and, of course the oven, where she was already ladling stew into bowls.

“Have you washed your hands in the through-well?” she asked him, and Kylofelt transported back to his childhood. His mother had always received him with those exact words when he’d come inside.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She turned and raised an eyebrow at him, and he held up his hands for inspection.

“Then sit.”

She placed the bowls and a plate with bread on the table and sat down opposite of him.

“Thank you for inviting me in.”

“Thank you for chopping my wood. You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. You seemed tired, and handling an axe when exhausted is a recipe for disaster.” 

“I was. And I know. I’m not used to someone helping me. I always had to rely on myself when I need to get things done.”

They started to eat the simple, well-seasoned, and nourishing stew.

“Hmm, that is good!” Kylo praised, remembering his manners, and wondered how long it had been since anyone had complimented Mitaka on his cooking skills.

“Tell me about yourself,” he wanted to know, as soon as she’d cleared her bowl.

“There’s nothing much to tell,” the girl deflected.

“I’m sure that’s not true. How did you end up with Plutt?” Kylo prompted her.

“How do you know I was with Plutt?” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, and she started to push her chair back.

“You mentioned him on the day you filled your mattress,” Kylo explained immediately, and after a moment he pointed to his scar. “Besides…do you remember the stallion that stepped on Plutt’s leg?”

Her eyes widened.

“That was you?”

Kylo nodded, and tried to look apologetic.

“The scar. Did I give you the scar when I cut you lose?”

He nodded again. “I hope you didn’t get into trouble after I escaped.”

“Well, Plutt’s leg was broken, and he was beside himself with pain. Plus, he wanted to be compensated for the money you’d cost him, and as I had been the one to cut you lose, took the brunt of his rage. He wanted to whore me out to soldiers, so he would get the money back – as if that would have worked.”

Kylo balled his left hand into a fist under the table, anger coiling in his guts.

“Did he force you to do that often?”

“He tried, but it never worked. You see, when I touch the hand of someone destined to die soon, I know. The probability of encountering men about to die is rather high in the army train, and I never could hide that knowledge. So they came to me asking about their fate, but feared me enough to leave me alone otherwise.”

“So you have visions?”

“No, it’s more like I suddenly see darkness around that person,” she explained, and Kylo held out his hand to her, but she shook her head.

“I already saw something when I handed you the tankard.”

“So I will die soon?” he asked, almost hopefully, and she frowned.

“It’s undecided. The darkness is flickering around you, but nothing is settled.”

Kylo pressed his lips together and gulped. Maybe this meant that he actually had a chance of defeating the Master? He took a deep breath and straightened up.

“What happened with Plutt?”

“We joined the train of the Emperor’s army, and Plutt forced me to go and earn money, so I could pay him back. I spoke to a soldier, a nice lad. He knew of me, and asked me about his fate. It was the same as with you – nothing certain. And so he said he would desert the army to avoid dying, and he would take me with him, if I wanted to go along.”

She smiled, a faraway look in her eyes. After a moment, she continued.

“I’d wanted to leave Plutt for ages, but as a woman alone in times like these –” She paused, and looked down onto her hands which rested folded in her lap. “But with Finn it could work. He hunted, and I cooked. His presence alone was enough so I wouldn’t be troubled by strangers. We fled in the opposite direction of the army, which led us back to Corellia.”

“I take it this, Finn, is still alive?” Kylo wanted to know.

“Very much so. And in love with the tavern owner’s daughter. Her name is Rose.” She smiled coyly when she told him this, as if she knew he was already jealous of this Finn and wanted to toy with him.

Kylo knew he should go. He felt the Master’s pull, but he was enjoying himself too much, so he stayed while she told him of her childhood. How she lost both her parents in the siege of Jakku. How Plutt took her in and had her work for him, never actually being the father figure he claimed to be, but always demanding gratitude.

Only when darkness had fallen completely, and the pull had become almost painful, he reluctantly started to say his farewells, and it appeared the girl was just as hesitant to let him go.

“Will you come and visit me again?” she asked, almost hopeful.

“When I can do so without endangering you, I will,” he said with one last parting glance at her form standing in the door, illuminated from the light falling out from behind her, and took his leave.

As soon as he reached the forest, he turned into a raven, and despite the strong compulsion to return home immediately, he took a detour towards the street to Talus, should anyone monitor the direction of his approach to the mill. He had just changed direction, when a hawk appeared seemingly out of thin air, and prepared to strike him in full flight.

Panic surged through Kylo. Here, out in the open, the hawk was faster and would catch him in no time. His only hope was to reach the denser parts of the forests, where the hawk had less room to navigate. He started evasive flight maneuvers, folding his wings and dropping down several feet in one moment, only to dart sideways and rise up the next. During one of these stunts, he briefly caught a glimpse of the hawk’s face: deep scars, almost like holes, marred the left side of its beak. It was the Master, spying on him, ready to discipline him for being late.

Once he reached the forest, Kylo flew higher, up through the branches of the trees, while the hawk dove down and sped along the ground. But with Kylo trying to keep his trajectory a surprise, the two birds soon lost sight of each other. It was clear what the destination of their frantic flight was, and the Master could just as well speed ahead and wait for Kylo at the mill. For some reason he didn’t. When Kylo arrived, he did not find the Master waiting for him. Instead, it was Mitaka who held the door open for him and ushered him inside the kitchen, where a cozy fire was going and two steaming mugs sat on the table. As soon as Kylo had turned back into his human form, Mitaka pulled his jacket off him and pressed him to sit at the table. When the door flew open again and the Master entered, it appeared as if they had been sitting there for some time.

He didn’t say a word, staring at them for a while with lips pressed together, before turning with a jerk and stalking back towards his study.

“Cutting it a bit close, eh?” Mitaka muttered.


	4. With neck and crop you are mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life at the mill was becoming more and more unbearable, not only to Kylo.  
Avoiding the Master's watchful eyes, Kylo and the Scavenger managed to deepen their connection.

_Where have you just flown?_  
_ His glance searches you everywhere_  
_ Pulled the circle around us_  
_ Yet it's already pulling me back_  
  
_ Hear the voice of your master_  
_ Obey because he will get you in the end_  
_ He will find you and you know it_  
  
_ Only my heart is still calling louder_

_ For you _

_ Ten months earlier _

The days after Thanisson’s death crawled by. The Master was absent once again, and they all either lounged in their bunks or gathered around the fireplace. No one spoke much or shared stories about the deceased. Not once was his name mentioned, not even by Edrison.

With every passing day, Kylo grew more worried for him. Edrison hadn’t said a word since they found Thanisson, just sat there on his bunk with a blank look in his eyes. It was only when Mitaka brought up the freshly-laundered clothes and set them onto the now empty bunk, did he wake from his paralyzed state. The others watched as Edrison ran down to the barn, where he hid in the hay and stayed until the next morning. He had been unresponsive ever since, and he even refused to eat despite Mitaka’s best efforts to convince him otherwise.

Kylo probably appeared nearly as apathetic to any onlooker, but his thoughts were going in circles. It was clear that Canady’s and Thanisson’s deaths –exactly a year apart– were no coincidence. With the Master so suspiciously absent, it seemed quite clear who was to blame. The question was, what could be done to avoid further deaths in the future? Kylo couldn’t think of anything apart from learning everything he could about magic, practicing and honing his skills to become as powerful and deft as possible in order to be able to defeat the Master.

Once again, a new apprentice was taken on six days into the New Year, a young brown haired boy who they called Mandetat. Soon after, Gideon’s apprenticeship was declared complete. With Thanisson gone and Edrison mourning him, nobody lent the new boy a hand when the Master worked him too hard, especially with Armitage watching them closely and declaring that the boy shouldn’t have it any easier than they had it. Either Armitage had been as unpleasant as an apprentice as he was now and nobody had bothered to help him, or he simply had forgotten the kindness bestowed on him. Kylo betted on the latter.

Kylo had not forgotten his desperation at having to perform impossible tasks, and he clearly remembered how thankful he’d been whenever Canady helped him. When Mandetat was ordered to sweep out the milling chamber –something Kylo remembered vividly and with horror- he offered to fetch the boy for lunch, and found him slumped against the wall, crying. Flour dust hung in the air like thick fog, making it hard to breath.

“Take a break, it’s lunchtime,” Kylo told the boy. When he stepped out of the room, completely covered in dust, he took deep breaths and tried to erase the tear tracks from his face.

“None of us fared any better in the beginning, don’t worry,” Kylo said. He murmured something under his breath and drew some runes with his fingers. Suddenly, the dust from all the nooks and crannies rose up into the air, formed a cloud and flew out of the door, right over Mandetat’s head.

With big eyes, the boy looked back into the now clean and spotless chamber.

“How did you do that?” he asked full of wonder.

Kylo only shrugged. “Let’s get inside, or the soup is going to get cold.”

From there on Kylo had taken on the role of something akin to a mentor to Mandetat, just as Canady had been to him. The boy was sharp, Kylo had to give him that. He understood instantly that he was to appear exhausted and tired at all times, especially around Armitage, without Kylo having to point it out.

The boy was not the only one Kylo was worried about, though. Edrison was still not his old self. He still hadn’t uttered a single word since Thanisson’s death. Kylo wondered if there was anything he could do to help him, but all attempts of talking to him ended with Edrison looking at him blankly and turning away.

A warm spell at the end of January led to the snow melting away, and the first specks of green appeared from under the dead grass and brown leaves. They noticed that Edrison was gone, when he failed to turn up to breakfast one morning.

“We have to inform the Master,” Armitage pointed out, and instantly rose from his place at the table. Kaplan held him back.

“That’s not your call to make, Armitage. I’m the senior journeyman, as you very well know.”

Everyone expected the Master to rage at Edrison’s absence, but instead he took the news calmly. According to Kaplan, all the Master had to say on the matter was that Edrison was in a huff and would surely be back as soon as he regained his senses.

“But he said it with a wink, which was worse than if he had started to rage and swear,” Kaplan shuddered as he shared what happened in the Master’s study.

It was not even completely dark outside when Edrison stepped into the kitchen, his head bowed low, followed by Snoke who was mocking him.

“What’s the matter Edrison? Didn’t you enjoy your outing? Weren’t the girls in the village pretty enough, or was the food not to your liking?” he leered at him. “Tell me, why are you already back?”

Edrison didn’t answer, he didn’t even move a muscle while the Master walked around him, crowding him.

“Won’t you tell me why? Do you think I don’t know that you wanted to flee? Go on and try it again. You won’t be the first to accomplish what nobody has managed to do before, I can guarantee you that,” he snarled.

Nary a muscle ticked in Edrison’s stony face as he endured the Master’s rant.

When the Master finally dismissed him and both left for their own quarters, a collective sigh escaped the eleven men. They hadn’t dared to breathe during the standoff.

The next day the weather turned bad again, and they all were relieved, for that surely would put a dent in any escape plans that Edrison might still harbor. They only noticed that he was gone again when he failed to turn up for lunch. This time he managed to stay away for two days, but when night fell the second time, he stumbled into the kitchen, shivering with blue lips and frozen limbs, a dead look in his eyes. Kylo and Gideon each took one of his arms and led him to a chair. They carefully took off his shoes while Mitaka poured a bowl full of water, in which they put his feet and started to rub them.

“We have to warm him up!” Kylo addressed the watching men, urging them to help.

It didn’t take long before the Master stepped into the room. This time he didn’t even bother to mock or rage. He just looked on while they tended to Edrison. Only when they prepared to bring him upstairs, he addressed him.

“A word, if you please. Twice should be enough, don’t you think? By now you should have realized that there is no escape from here.”

The following morning Edrison tried a third –and what he surely thought was going to be the final– escape. 

They had put him into bed and swathed him in blankets, held vigil over his fitful sleep until they had to start their day’s work.

Kylo and Armitage had been tasked with whetting the grindstones, and they were about to loosen the shrouds holding the third grindstone when the door flew open and Mandetat stormed in with an ashen face and fear in his eyes. He waved his arms and cried something aloud, but they only managed to understand him when Kaplan noticed the uproar and stopped the grinder.

“He hanged himself!” he sobbed. “I can’t get him down! You’ve got to help me. In the barn! Hurry!”

Tools clattered to the ground and they rushed out to the barn, where they found Edrison dangling from a beam in the darkest and most inaccessible corner, a rope knotted around his neck, his legs twitching.

“We’ve got to get him down,” Kaplan ordered. Whoever carried a knife took his out, but nobody managed to get closer than three feet to Edrison, not close enough to reach the rope. It was as if their feet were glued to the ground outside of this three foot perimeter. In a desperate attempt, Kylo weighed his blade, aimed, and hurled it at the rope. The blade hit it, but clattered to the ground without cutting it. Not used to feeling so helpless with magic at his fingertips, desperation welled up inside him, and he saw the same sentiment mirrored in the other men’s eyes.

Behind them the Master started to laugh maliciously, eyed them, and shook his head.

“Amateurs, the whole lot of you,” he said, his voice laden with contempt as he strode past them, picked up the knife and cut the rope. Edrison tumbled down and lay at the Master’s feet, drawing rattling breaths. The Master spat at Edrison. Kylo felt as if they had all been spat at, and instinctively knew that whatever the Master had to say next was aimed at all of them.

“I decide who dies at this mill. I alone,” he stated coldly, threw the knife down, turned, and left without any attempt at helping Edrison.

They were able to move again, and Kaplan was the first to rush towards Edrison, quickly unwinding the rope from his neck. He and Gideon carried Edrison out of the barn, while Kylo stared down at his knife in disgust. He picked it up, but before he pocketed it, he made sure the handle was carefully wiped with straw.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ November _

Gone were the golden days of October, and with the falling leaves and fog shrouding everything, fear started to be the most prevalent emotion at the mill once again. Since their frantic chase through the woods, Kylo found the Master frequently staring at him, which Kylo took as a sign that his time at the mill would soon come to an end, one way or another.

Kylo expected the Master to revoke his privilege of afternoons off, but as the next Saturday rolled around, Snoke personally stopped him when he wanted to return to work after lunch, and sent him on his way, with a curious glint in his eyes.

As soon as Kylo entered the forest, he felt a prickling sensation at his neck, one he used to get whenever he was being watched. He looked back towards the mill, and almost missed the scraggly black cat sitting on the barn’s roof. He already was too far away to discern any details, but he could have sworn it sported an ugly scar on its face.

When he crossed the wooden bridge over the creek, and looked down into the water, he noticed a big trout with a malformed face. When he passed the Waste Plain, and stopped a moment to remember Canady and Thanisson, his eyes fell on a woodpecker. When it turned its head, Kylo already expected to see the scar running next to its peak, and accepted that he could not take the risk of visiting his scavenger again. It was far too dangerous with the Master shadowing his every step. Drinking a beer in Corellia’s tavern, and maybe meeting people connected to her, was all the enjoyment he was going to have this afternoon..

Kylo needed a moment to adjust his eyes to the dim light upon entering “Tico’s Twig,” Corellia’s oldest and most popular tavern, known for the excellent beer and stew they served. Only few patrons were present, and none of them paid particular attention to him as he strode up to the counter where a rather short and plump, but very pretty girl with black hair polished the tankards.

“Welcome, stranger. What can I get you?” she said and smiled up at him, although Kylo noticed the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“A beer please,” he ordered, and leaned against the counter and let his gaze sweep over the room and the patrons, who were all gathered around a table in the back, playing cards. It was his first time here. Whenever he had come to town, he was the one who had to turn into a farm beast to be sold, while Armitage –or whoever had to pose as the seller– got to have a drink in here to pass the time until Kylo was able to stage his escape.

“Are you just passing through, or going to stay?” the barmaid asked him as she handed him the tankard. He took a hearty swig and swiped the foam off his mouth with the back of his hand before he answered.

“Just passing through.”

“What a pity,” she said, as she eyed him up. “Lots of pretty girls would have been delighted if you were to stay.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“No, really. Stay– there’s a dance tonight. Maybe one of them might catch your eye,” she winked, and leaned in closer as if to add something, but then the back door swung open and a young man with rich brown skin carried a barrel inside.

“Rosie, where do you want the–” he started to call out, but stopped, his brows knitting into a frown, when he noticed Kylo talking to the woman.

Rosie turned around, and Kylo noticed her smile lost its perfunctory quality when she directed it at the young man. So this must be Finn, the soldier that helped his scavenger run away from her old life. Funny, how just last week he had felt jealousy towards him without even knowing him, and now he’d clearly evoked similar feelings in the other man by talking to the barmaid. Judging by her smile, and the way she touched his arm, those feelings were completely unfounded.

“Just put it down here. And please tap it. The other one’s nearly empty.”

Out of the corner of his eye Kylo saw the door open, and an old crone hobbled in, a hood pulled deep over her face. He decided to put some distance between himself and the bar wench, and made a show of joining the men playing cards. After all there was no need to put her in unnecessary danger, should the “old crone” make false assumptions.

When Kylo returned to the mill, he conceded that he might have enjoyed a stay at a tavern, for the first time in his life. The Corellians were friendly people and had let him join their game and teased him with good-natured banter. And so, he made sure only to win enough to cover his tab.

Despite having fun, he was sad he hadn’t been able to visit the cottage and its beautiful inhabitant. He wondered whether she had been waiting for him, whether she had noticed the pattern in his visits, and maybe she was sad that he had not stopped by.

With his thoughts occupied by her, it was no wonder that his dreams led him towards her cottage. The full moon illuminated her yard, and he was able to discern details he hadn’t consciously paid attention to when he visited her – or things she only could have added after his last visit. Like the pumpkins resting on top of the stacked wood that he had definitely not seen when he’d last been there.

_ He raised his hand to knock, but the door opened before his knuckles even made contact with the wood –and his breath hitched. He’d never before seen her with her hair down. It framed her face in soft waves and tumbled down well beyond her breasts. She was wearing a simple, white shift, and had a dark shawl draped around her shoulders, probably on her way to bed. _

_ The most beautiful thing was her smile, though. She beamed up at him radiantly, and her dimples danced. _

_ “You made it!” she laughed, grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. _

_ “I was being watched, so I didn’t dare to come, in case I wasn’t able to shake my follower.” _

_ “You’ve mentioned that you didn’t want to endanger me, but I don’t understand. Why would meeting you put me in danger?” _

_ She darted around the kitchen, preparing tea for the both of them. The sheer domesticity of the situation made him gulp. He could clearly see himself sharing evenings with her here in this very room, and the thought that he could never do so caused despair to rise up. He clamped down on it, willing himself to concentrate on the pleasure of the moment instead. _

_ “Has anyone told you about the fate of a girl named Paige yet?” _

_ “You mean Rose’s sister?” _

_ “I don’t know. If she is Rose’s sister, that is. But Paige and my friend Canady were in love. Canady planned to leave the mill –I don’t know how he was going to do that, but they wanted to marry. Until the Master heard of it, and he wasn’t pleased.” Kylo curled his hands around the steaming mug she had handed him, and he drew in a shaking breath. “Then Paige started to have dreams. Bad dreams. So bad, that in the end she decided that killing herself was better than having to endure the torture of them any longer.” _

_ He stared down at his hands, not daring to look up at her. _

_ “I don’t want that to happen to you. I don’t want the Master to learn of my visits to you. I don’t want him to know who you are, so he can’t target you.” _

_ When her small hand curled around his large one, he finally looked up, and saw her watching him with compassion in her eyes. _

_ “What happened to your friend, after Paige died?” _

_ “He was the one to find her, and his hair turned white the very instant he did, I was told. I only met him after all that happened, but he had changed. Her death had broken him.” Kylo briefly closed his eyes. “He died almost two years ago when he fell down a flight of stairs.” _

_ “Was he –,” _

_ “He didn’t kill himself, if that is what you mean. But it was not an accident, either.” _

_ The girl’s eyes went wide. “You mean someone killed him?” _

_ “Every year one of us dies, without rhyme or reason,” he shrugged and tried to appear unconcerned, but she saw right through his ruse. _

_ “Was that why you asked me what I saw when I touched you? You wanted to know if you will be the next one to die?” _

_ Kylo nodded, and noticed in wonder that she had started to gently stroke his hand. He hadn’t been touched this tenderly since his mother had hugged him goodbye all those years ago, but his anger at having been sent away overshadowed that particular memory. Only now did he realize how much he had missed touch of a loving hand. A manly clap on the shoulder or a brotherly punch to the arm was not nearly enough. _

_ As if sensing what was going through his head, the girl stood up, walked around the table and wrapped her arms around him, drawing him close. He leaned his face against her body and inhaled her scent, while she buried the fingers of one hand in his hair and stroked his shoulder with the other one. _

_ “You are not going to die, Kylo. I will make sure of that,” she stated firmly, conviction in her voice. _

_ “There’s nothing you can do to prevent that. But thank you,” he murmured against the cloth of her shift. Suddenly the intimacy of their position hit him, and he tried to pull away, but her grip on him tightened, as she continued to hold him close. _

_ “Tell me about you,” she prompted him. “Why did you come here?” And so he told her about his past. About his mother, the lady who fell in love and married a scoundrel; about how he started to have visions from a young age, visions he couldn’t hide; how people became afraid of him, and his parents sent him to live with his uncle, who supposedly had found a way to control the visions; how his uncle failed him, and how he left. _

_ After a while, she had moved to sit on his lap, her head resting on his shoulder. When her eyes started to drift shut, he lifted her up and carried her into the other room, where he laid her down on the bed and tucked her in. Before he could straighten up again, her arms sneaked around his neck and she pulled him down into a kiss. It was nothing more than a peck on the lips, but the brief moment of her warm lips pressing against his, shook him to the core. _

_ “You are a good man who had bad things happen to him,” she murmured against his lips. “Please come again, and tell me the rest of your story.” _

Kylo opened his eyes and stared into the dark. He’d never had such a vivid dream before, apart from the dreams in which the Master had called him to the mill. He also couldn’t recall having had a physical reaction to a dream since he started his apprenticeship at the mill, and as his hand crept under the waistband of his sleeping trousers, he wished he hadn’t woken up just yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_ Five months earlier _

This year’s spring festival had come and gone, and with it the renewal of the men’s bond to the Master. Kylo briefly entertained the idea of what would happen if he refused to perform the ritual. But he still had much to learn in order to have even a slight chance against Snoke, and so he swallowed his pride and ducked under the yolk once again.

The ritual also meant that Mandetat was able to help more, which was a welcome change, for Edrison was still not back to his old self –he probably never would be. He had been ill for a long time, running a high fever. His throat was very swollen, and he had trouble breathing and eating for a long time. They had all taken turns in vigil at Edrison’s side, fearing that in his fever-addled state he might try to hurt himself again. Later, when the fever had broken and Edrison slowly regained some strength through being spoon-fed soup, they knew that he would not try to hurt himself again. The Master had been very clear, after all. “_ I decide who dies at the mill _,” he’d said, the words still echoing through Kylo’s head. Were they the answer to the questions Kylo had asked himself after Canady’s and Thanisson’s deaths?

Kylo knew he wouldn’t be able to continue living in good conscience without holding the Master accountable, but until he had a chance to do that, he had to play his part. Docile and obedient; working hard and acting unaware -all while soaking up all of Snoke’s teachings like a sponge.

Snoke noticed his progress and singled him out with praise on a regular basis, much to Armitage’s displeasure, who felt that his position as the Master’s right hand at the mill might be in danger.

“You’ve made great progress, Kylo,” Snoke said after he’d kept him in his study after one of their lessons. “By now, you are easily the most accomplished of all of my pupils. I can even imagine passing the mill and all it entails on to you at some point in the future,” he declared and looked at Kylo expectantly, but Kylo showed no reaction. He was far too busy trying to figure out what the Master’s motives behind this offer could be. Snoke held up a hand, as if to curb Kylo’s excitement, and continued. “Until then, you still have a lot to learn. You need to work not only on your magical abilities, but also on your leadership qualities. You are far too compassionate, and you have yet to learn to control your temper.”

He stepped closer, and lifted his hand towards Kylo’s cheek, as if to caress it, and Kylo had to suppress an urge to recoil from the touch.

“You have to learn not to let your anger show. Control it, so as not to warn people. Keep yourself outwardly impassive, but stoke your anger, and strike when the time is right.” He let his hand fall onto Kylo’s shoulder.

That was actually good advice, Kylo mused, and tried to relax his stance, so he wouldn’t give away the hatred burning him up from the inside. 

“If someone can be useful, use them, regardless of your feelings towards them. I know you don’t like Armitage. I don’t either,” Snoke prattled on. “But, he has his uses, and so I keep him close. I am aware that he is a rabid cur, but a cur’s weakness, if properly manipulated, can be turned into a tool –never forget that.”

Snoke stepped back and returned to his desk. He sat down, leaned back into his chair, steepled his fingers and leaned them against his lips.

“You will have to learn to work with Armitage. I’ll send the two of you to the market tomorrow. Armitage will have a horse to sell,” he continued after thinking for a moment, and sent Kylo on his way, dismissing him with a wave of his hand.


	5. Obey, because he will get you in the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could a helping hand offered by an unexpected source help Kylo free himself from the shackles binding him to the Master and reunite him with the girl of his dreams?

_Give you a raven feather_  
_ Pledge of our love_  
_ Remember me, I'll come back_  
_ Remember me holding it in your hand_

_Remember me, I'll come back_  
_ Remember me holding it in your hand_  
_ Remember me holding it in your hand_

  


_ November _

Over the course of the next few days, the only thing Kylo looked forward to were his nights. He started to dream of _ her _ every night. In his dreams, they talked and walked through Corellia holding hands as she showed him the houses of her friends, and told him stories about them. Once they arrived back at her cottage, she kissed him goodbye. And oh, how she kissed him. More often than not he woke up in a sticky mess, which hadn’t happened to him since before he arrived at the mill, since his adolescence.

During his waking hours, he went through the motions. He did what was expected of him; worked, talked to the other men, answered their questions – but his heart was even less in it than usual. Until now, the only thing worth living for at the mill had been the camaraderie he had with some of his fellow millers. But now, even that had faded into indifference when compared to his feelings towards the girl, and the way dreaming of her made him come alive again. Her light seemed to spill out of the dreams and brighten the bleak surroundings at the mill. Every color suddenly seemed more brilliant than before. Kylo had never before noticed how many shades of colors existed – or he had simply forgotten it; forgotten how many nuances of the color green there were; between the yellowish green of the dying moss to the dark green of the conifers surrounding the quarry. Normally the almost blueish-green of the firs added to the gloomy atmosphere of the place, but now they almost seemed to be infused with a gold hue when the light of the setting sun fell on them in just the right way.

Most of the men at the mill were too preoccupied with their own fears to notice the changes in Kylo. Even if they did, they probably attributed them to his rising fear of what they all knew would happen at the turning of the year. Only Mitaka and Mandetat spared him worried glances. To Kylo’s surprise, Armitage also made an attempt at finding out what was going on with him, but then again, he was probably tasked to do so by the Master.

The grindstones needed to be whetted again, and they were paired up and took turns in working on them. Kylo did not like Armitage, and was quite sure that Armitage returned the sentiment, but despite their differences, they tended to make a good team, and the Master made sure they worked together frequently.

“Is she a blonde, or does she have black hair?” Armitage asked him, seemingly out of the blue, as they brushed filings off the stone.

“Who?” Kylo truly was confused for a moment.

“Her. She who occupies your every waking thought. Do you think we are blind and wouldn’t notice that some girl caught your eye? Your nightly moans certainly didn’t go unnoticed,” he winked at him. “I knew your afternoons away would pay off. I’m sure you’d like to meet her more often. I might know a way to accomplish that.”

Kylo couldn’t help the blush that spread when Armitage mentioned his moaning. He frequently woke up to sighs and groans coming from the other beds. Just because Kylo hadn’t felt those bodily urges for a long time, didn’t mean the other men hadn’t. He was neither deaf nor blind, and quite aware of the fact that his brethren sought pleasure beyond their own hands, and frequently in each other’s arms.

“Awww,” he cooed, when he noticed Kylo’s discomfort. “Just tell me her name, and I can help you into her bed.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Kylo deflected. He hammered on the pick to deepen the grooves in the stone with more force than strictly necessary, to hinder Armitage from continuing the conversation.

_ Once again Kylo dreamed of the girl. She was already waiting for him at her doorstep, and she leapt into his arms, scolding him for being late. His dream-self couldn’t help but spin her around, infected by her good mood. He’d never been the outgoing and overly affectionate type –but then again, he never had any reason to be. Was this how his life could have been, he wondered, if he hadn’t answered Snoke’s call? _

_ “Come, I want to show you the most beautiful place in Corellia,” she urged him, taking his hand and pulling him along with her. And of course he gave in, and let her lead him. He wasn’t able to deny her anything, after all. _

_ This time she didn’t want to go into the village, but headed in the direction of the woods. _

_ “There’s a beautiful clearing not far from here around a small pond covered with water lilies. In summer, I went there to bathe. The water is ice cold, of course,” she laughed, unaware of how her talking about having baths affected him. _

_ Kylo had to wonder about the direction his dreams were taking lately. Normally his dreams –if he could remember them at all– revolved around what he’d left behind, or about the mill; sometimes he dreamed about fleeting feelings of danger, or the elation of flying. Where did all the details in these dreams about the girl come from? The names his scavenger told him, the places she showed him –his conscious self didn’t know them. _

_ It was a clear night, and the moon -although not full yet- illuminated the sky, and even gave enough light to reach the ground in the part of the forest she lead him to. _

_ As soon as they stepped out into the clearing, Kylo noticed a shadow darting over the ground in front of them, and he instinctively grabbed her shawl and pulled it over her head, disregarding her cries of protest. When he looked up, he saw a hawk darting towards them, and fear pierced his heart. _

_ “Run!” he commanded, and tried to shield her. “Hide your face!” _

_ He felt the hawk’s shrill bray rattling his bones, when – _

– he sat up in his bunk, breathing heavily, and he noticed someone shaking his shoulder.

“Shhh. You had a nightmare,” Mitaka said in a soothing voice.

Once he had regained his senses, he felt an object being pressed into his palm.

“Wear this at all times or your dreams will be the cause of someone’s death one of these days.”

Kylo couldn’t see what it was in the dark, but it felt like a piece of gnarled wood threaded on a string. Mitaka had never given him any reason not to trust him, so Kylo slipped it over his head. Despite Mitaka’s words, he didn’t dare to close his eyes again, for fear his dreams might involuntarily give something away.

The following day Kylo expected some sort of confrontation with Snoke, but none came until evening, when he was called into the Master’s study.

The Master sat behind his desk, not unlike a judge at court, his arms folded before his chest and with a stony face.

“You are my most accomplished student, Kylo,” he started after long moments of silence, in which he coldly eyed Kylo. “But as of lately I have started to feel that my trust in you is unfounded. You are harboring secrets, trying to conceal something from me. It would be in your best interest if you told me what you are hiding.” He leaned forward, looking at Kylo expectantly.

“I don’t know what you are referring to. I have nothing to tell you,” he stated in a firm voice. “Nothing at all.”

“Very well. But don’t be surprised when trouble finds you.”

With those words the Master dismissed him.

There were many nights in which the Master left the mill. Where he went, nobody really knew, despite Armitage claiming that he went to the Emperor’s court to give his counsel on war tactics. To Kylo, it made no difference whether he was or not.

Mitaka seemed to see things differently. The next time Snoke left the mill, Kylo woke from his fitful sleep with a hand pressed over his mouth, and Mitaka whispering that he should come down to the kitchen and to take care that he not wake anyone else.

Intrigued, Kylo followed Mitaka towards the door in the dark and crept down the stairs, carefully avoiding the creaking steps, guided only by faint light spilling from the kitchen into the hallway. Mitaka gestured for him to shut the door and sat down at the table, where two steaming mugs full of tea already waited. Lifting his eyebrows questioningly, Kylo complied and watched as Mitaka fumbled for a piece of chalk and drew a circle around them on the floor, adding a pentagram and three crosses at certain points.

“Now we can talk,” he said.

“What is this circle for?” Kylo inquired. “Does it prevent the Master from hearing and seeing us?”

“No. If he were near, he would definitely hear and see us. But as he is not here, this spell conveniently lets him forget about us, and as such he would not try and use his abilities to spy on us. But we have to be quiet,” he cautioned. “If someone were to wake and come down, they would hear us talking.” Kylo knew that the other man was referring to Armitage with those words.

“That’s a handy spell. I’ve never heard of it.”

“Hmm, and that’s the problem, isn’t it? There’s so much you don’t know. You are not ready.”

“What are you talking about?” Kylo frowned at Mitaka.

“About the fact that you are so very dumb, Kylo,” he said and shook his head.

“Me, dumb?” Kylo bristled.

“You still haven’t figured out what is going on here at the damned mill, or you would have had the foresight to hide the extent of your abilities. Are you even aware of danger you have put yourself in?”

“Yes, yes I am,” Kylo sighed.

“Canady, Thanisson and all the others we had to bury out on the Waste Plain made the same mistake as you. They let the Master know of their proficiency in the dark arts, which marked them as targets. You might have noticed that one of us has to die every year.”

“That is hard to miss,” Kylo quipped. “But I don’t understand why it has to be so.”

“In exchange for being able to perform magic, the Master has to sacrifice one of us –if he fails to do so, he himself would have to die,” Mitaka explained.

“How do you even know this?”

“I’ve read it in the Koraktor.” Kylo looked at Mitaka with an incredulous expression The other man didn’t even try to hide his smugness.

“How did you get your hands on it? It’s always under lock in the study.”

“First of all, thank you for not doubting my ability to read, as many others would. Secondly – why do you think I volunteered to do the housework? From time to time, the Master wants his study cleaned, and as he is quite convinced that I am too dumb to have mastered the art of reading –” he let his voice trail off and shrugged. “Anyway, There are lots of interesting things to be learned from that book. Some spells the Master won’t teach us, and other things that he doesn’t want us to know.”

Kylo leaned forward, intrigued.

“Such as?”

“That there are ways to free ourselves from the disastrous bond we have with him.”

“Why are you still here then? Why haven’t you freed yourself?”

“Because, believe it or not, just like in a fairytale, love and courage are the keys. If there is a woman who loves you enough to challenge the Master, asks him to give you your freedom on the last day of the year…and she masters the trial he sets her – it would break the contract that Snoke has with the Goodman, and not just with you, but all of us would be free.” Mitaka stared into the flame of the candle between them. “I don’t have a woman who loves me,” he said, looking up into Kylo’s eyes. “But you do.”

“Where did you get that idea? I don’t.” Kylo firmly protested. Mitaka continued to look at him, and said nothing. 

“There is this girl I have…feelings for. But she barely knows I exist.”

“I see.”

“Even if…what kind of trial is it?” Kylo wanted to know.

“The Koraktor says that she’d have to prove that she knows you. How, I don’t know. That would be up to the Master.”

“And if she fails?”

“Then the both of you will die,” he answered in a gravelly voice.

“Paige and Canady wanted to do it, didn’t they? Was that the reason Paige died?”

The other man nodded.

“And that’s the reason Snoke –,” Kylo spat out the name like a curse, “wants to know who I love, so he can destroy her, no matter her feelings towards me.”

After a few moments of silence, Kylo continued to speak. “Even if she loved me, I never would risk her life.”

Mitaka sighed. “How did I know you would say that?” He rested his forehead against his hand, massaging his temples.

“I would be surprised if the Master hasn’t already chosen you to be the next sacrifice. So we have one other option.”

“Which is?” 

“You’d have to resist the Master’s mental command. If you can resist him long enough, he will have failed to deliver a sacrifice, and he will die instead,” Mitaka contemplated. “At least I hope so,” he added after a couple of seconds.

The two men sat in silence for a while, and Kylo wondered how he could learn to resist the Master’s command, when he suddenly felt the urge to stand up.

“Try not to,” Mitaka said sharply, when he started to push his chair back.

“What?”

“Don’t stand up.”

The urge to get up increased, and Kylo had nothing to hold against it, and so he complied.

“I would have been surprised if you had managed it on your first try,” Mitaka consoled him. “Let’s try again tomorrow.”

When the Master tried to interrogate him after the fateful dream in which he’d tried to see the face of the scavenger, Kylo tried to convince himself that the girl was still safe. He couldn’t be sure though, and the uncertainty nearly drove him mad with worry. He needed to see her, needed to make sure she was all right, and so he used the Master’s absence to fly towards the old cottage.

He hid behind some trees and used the spell he’d seen Mitaka use the night before to divert the Master’s thoughts from his whereabouts. Smoke was coming out of her chimney, which meant she must be at home. After a while the door opened, and the girl stepped out to gather some wood from the stack. Kylo drank in her form, tried to discern whether she looked unduly tired, which might have been a giveaway of Snoke influencing her dreams, or whether she looked healthy. Despite a pinched and worried look on her face, all seemed to be well, and Kylo breathed a sigh of relief and shifted his weight.

_ Snap! _

A twig broke under his foot. The young woman’s head spun in the direction of the noise, and her eyes searched for its origin. When her gaze landed on his form, she let the wood gathered in her arms tumble to the ground, and she ran towards him.

“Are you all right?” she called out, clearly distressed, and took both of his hands in hers.She looked up at him with anxiety etched into her features. “I was so worried after that hawk attacked you, I woke up without seeing what happened–”

Kylo’s eyes widened, his thoughts somersaulting wildly. Had she just implied–

“Wait! How did you know that? That was a dream I had,” he finally stammered.

“One of many we shared, I believe. I don’t know how, but…you’re the wizard here. You should be able to tell me,” she replied, her lips curling into a coy smile.

Kylo’s heart beat furiously in his chest. The elation he felt couldn’t compare to anything he had experienced so far.

“You kissed me,” he blurted out, and the girl threw her head back and laughed.

“You chose to focus on that, of all things? Yes, I kissed you.” She took a step closer. “And it made me curious. I’d like to know how the dream kisses compare to the real thing.”

Jerkily, Kylo drew her close and buried his face in the crook of her neck when he noticed that she had broken the circle he’d drawn by stepping close to him. Reluctantly he let her go, and swore under his breath.

“Give me a moment,” he said, bending down to repair the circle. He reconsidered and drew it again, for good measure.

“This is so that we are safe from my Master – the hawk in that dream,” he explained to her and then stepped close to her once again. “I knew those dreams were different, and wondered about how vivid they felt, but I honestly thought they were just dreams. I apologize if I–,”

She shushed him by placing her finger on his lips.

“Don’t. Don’t apologize. I was the one to kiss you first, after all. My dream-self might have been a bit more forward than I usually am, but the sentiment behind it was the same. I like you very much, wizard or not. I just wish you could free yourself from the bonds binding you to the mill.”

“Yes, me too,” he sighed. “You’ve given me even more reason to fight.” He laid both his hands on her shoulders and looked down at her intently. “Should I manage to free myself, would I be welcome?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

“If I have not returned to you after the year has turned, forget me. Then I have failed, and am most likely dead.”

“No! There must be something I can do to help you,” she cried out.

For a moment, Kylo was tempted to tell her about how she could free him, but then he remembered that she would die if she failed the trial, and disgust at his selfishness bubbled up within him.

“You already have,” he told her instead. “You’ve given me something to fight for.”

He slowly lowered his head, his eyes focused on her lips. Sensing his intent, the young woman rose on her tiptoes impatiently, and then their lips met. A mere brush at first, a soft caress, but as soon as her arms tightened around his neck and she pressed closer, he deepened their kiss, slanting his head so he was able to taste her fully. A strangled moan escaped him, overwhelmed by the feelings kissing her evoked in him. Time seemed to stand still as they kissed; nothing mattered besides their touch and closeness.

When they finally broke apart, Kylo held onto her for a few more seconds, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“I have to return, before my absence is noticed,” he stated as he stepped out of her embrace, loosening her grip around his neck and placing kisses on the back of her hands.

“No!” she protested, and she shook her head desperately, but Kylo had already started to transform into his raven form. As he swung upwards, he noticed he had lost a feather, and she bent down to retrieve it, caressing it with the tips of her fingers.

_ December _

Mitaka and Kylo practiced resisting mental commands in every minute they could spare. Mitaka was rather inventive with his commands, which caused them to burst out laughing quite frequently. The first days Kylo failed to resist putting on his clothes in the wrong order, and appeared to breakfast with his undershirt worn over his shirt, or his apron wound around his head –much to the chagrin of their colleagues, who grew more and more anxious with every passing day and reacted angrily at their jesting.

Slowly, Kylo began to make progress and he figured out how to work around the strange compulsions placed into his head. At first, he only was able to stop himself before the action he was commanded to do was completed, but soon he only turned and lifted an eyebrow at Mitaka when he felt the compulsion to do something unusual. That made both of them feel rather hopeful.

A few days before Christmas, it was once again a new moon. The Goodman arrived to bring his wagonload full of sacks to be ground, and the millers worked as hard as they could in absolute silence. It was the first time that Kylo saw the Goodman leave the coach box and enter the mill. He couldn’t help but stare at the window of the Master’s study on his way to the wagon, where he saw the reflection of the feather the Goodman had in his hat sway like flames.

When the Goodman returned to the coach box at dawn, he let his gaze sweep over the tired millers, and asked, “Which one of you is Kylo?”

His voice was brittle like bone, and it chilled Kylo to the core.

“I am,” he managed to choke out despite the lump in his throat, and held the Goodman’s penetrating gaze, until he turned, cracked his whip and drove off.

From there on Kylo’s nights were once again filled with dreams, despite wearing the ward Mitaka had given him. In these dreams, Kylo led lives full of hardships, knowing he had lost the love of his life –in childbirth, to the plague, to looting soldiers– or finding that he suffered from severe afflictions, was unable to find work, and faced starvation. Whenever he woke up the same questions echoed in his head.

_ Was it worth defying the Master? Was a life without magic even worth the hassle? _

Kylo was tired, unable to find a moment of rest without diving into the horrors of his dreamscape, and he longed for it all to be over. In those moments of absolute despair, he remembered his scavenger’s face, her kiss, and that he had something worth living for after all –and he renewed his battle, fully intending to fight the Master until his last breath.

When the Master ordered him to go and dig a grave at the Waste Plain after breakfast on the last day of the year, Kylo was almost relieved. Soon his ordeal would be over, one way or another. He was more than ready to be free of this pain. He had already found the coffin hidden in the barn the day before and almost lovingly caressed it. Either he would be laying in it in two days’ time –or the Master would.

Kylo met Mitaka as he emerged from the barn, equipped with pickaxe and shovel. The two men looked at each other and nodded in understanding. No words were needed anymore. One of Kylo’s biggest regrets included not having befriended Mitaka sooner. He had never been cruel to the man, unlike some of the other journeymen, but he also never actively sought out his company.

Snowdrifts were piled high at the Waste Plain, and there was only one spot where digging a grave would make sense. As he lifted the pickaxe to break into the frozen ground, a picture of a blue flower twinkling in green grass rose up in his mind. The axe broke the ground quite exactly where the flower had drifted down when Kylo had last visited the unnamed graves, and uncontrolled laughter bubbled up from deep within him, when he realized he unwittingly had marked the place where his own grave would be all those weeks ago.

It took him the majority of the day to dig out a grave, despite conjuring a magical fire to thaw the frozen ground. It was repetitive work, designed to let his mind wander; he let his thoughts explore regrets buried deep under the barely-healed scabs of mental injuries. He thought of his childhood, his parents –especially his mother. Would she feel it if he were to die? Would she mourn him, or was the memory of him tainted by the lies his uncle Luke must have told her to cover up his actions? Soon, those dark thoughts were replaced by happier ones: by the memory of the kisses bestowed on him by his scavenger in those sweet shared dreams and at their last meeting; the girl’s hopeful face when she told him she wanted to help him. Instead of breaking his will further, which the task of digging his own grave was surely intended to do, it strengthened his resolve to fight back.

None of the men managed to eat much that evening, the fear of what was to come constricted their throats. Kylo contemplated telling them that it was he who had been chosen to die by the Master, when a loud hammering at the door echoed through the mill.

Mitaka let out a relieved sigh, which had Kylo look at him sharply, and he was already halfway to the door, when the Master emerged from the study and strode through the hallway to open it himself.

Kylo heard a female voice and fear gripped his heart as he rushed out into the hallway.

“No!” he shouted, his arm outstretched. “Don’t!”

At his anguished outcry, Snoke turned to him, a malicious smile on his lips. His motion revealed the form of the girl standing outside the mill.

“It’s too dangerous!” Kylo added, his voice faltering under the girl’s anguished glance.

“That was not your call to make, Kylo” she glowered. “I’m perfectly capable of deciding what is too dangerous, or what is worth fighting for.” 

“Ah, Kylo,” the Master leered, “I always knew compassion would be your downfall. You had the tool for a possible escape at your fingertips, and you decided not to use it? What a fool you are.”

“And yet here I am,” the fierce, beautiful girl addressed Snoke fearlessly. “Asking you to let Kylo go.”

“Pray, why should I do that?” Snoke drawled. “Why should I let the man I wanted as my successor go?”

Kylo wanted to protest, but found he could not utter a sound, and for a moment the girl’s expression faltered, but the she squared her shoulders.

“He would never agree to that,” she said.

“Very well then,” Snoke hissed, and with a wave of his hand, Kylo as well as the other journeymen transformed into ravens. They were pulled into the study, where they ended up perched on the ledge they usually inhabited during their lessons. Kylo almost started to rejoice, for he knew that the girl was able to recognize him in his raven form, when he noticed that all the other ravens looked exactly like him, identical like twins. Fear speared through him instead, causing his heart to race.

Snoke led the girl into the study, and Kylo wanted to maintain eye contact with her, but his head was forcefully bent down until his beak rested under his left wing. Unable to move, and unable to even utter a sound despite his best efforts to break the hold on him, all he could do was to listen in silence and hope for the impossible.

“You seem quite confident that you know Kylo,” he heard the Master say in an almost bored voice. “It should not be a problem for you to find him amongst these ravens then.”

Kylo couldn’t discern her answer over the roaring of his own blood in his ears, but soon he noticed her slowly walking along the row of ravens perched on the beam, inspecting each one closely. When she drew close to him, he attempted to shake the hold on him, and nearly despaired when he couldn’t and she walked past him. At the end of the row of ravens, she turned and walked back, examining every raven even more carefully. Kylo thought his whole body would surely be shaking from his efforts to free himself, but once again she walked past him without recognizing him.

“Am I allowed to touch them?” she asked the Master, her voice faltering.

“If you must,” he replied, and Kylo felt even more pressure trying to keep him from moving.

When she stood before him once again, all he could do was commit to memory what he could see of her beautiful face with the one eye directed at her. This was what he would concentrate on when he died. He saw her lift a hand, and felt her finger brush over the soft feathers at his breast. As soon as her fingers touched him, Kylo felt a surge of strength, and the Master’s grip on him slipped. He was able to turn his head, look at her fully, and lean into her touch.

“This is my Kylo,” she announced, and she bent down to kiss him on the head. “You are free now.”

Kylo instantly transformed into his human form and moved to stand between the girl and the Master, effectively shielding her from him. Instead of attacking them like Kylo expected him to, the Master stumbled back against the wall, paler than Kylo had seen him before, the disfigurement on his face more pronounced than ever, his hand gripping his own throat. Dimly Kylo registered the other millers’ confused questions as to what was going on and their curses as they bumped into each other while transforming back in the confined space of the study. He felt as if the air was being sucked out of the room, and all noise suddenly dimmed to a low hum.

When Kylo looked up, the Goodman stood before him. The feather on his hat drew his gaze, and it appeared as if its fire was the only light source in the room, a stark contrast to the pale face, dark eyes, and coat.

“Kylo Ren,” he boomed. “I have come to make you an offer.”

Kylo tried to back away, but realized that he couldn’t move.

“I’ve seen into your heart, known your deepest desires, and I can help them come true. Don’t you want to bring those who’ve hurt you to justice?”

Images of the people in Chandrila shunning him as a child flashed before his mind. Memories of the countless nights he spent crying in his room - alone, because his parents had been busy. Images of his mother sending him away; of his uncle, Luke, declaring him possessed by the devil and preparing to perform an exorcism that would have killed him.

With those memories came anger at the isolation and hurt, and the desire to take revenge. Part of Kylo recognized those feelings as his own, although they were amplified excessively. He had never felt such a burning hatred within himself before, save maybe for his uncle, back when he had tried to kill him. He wanted to give in to that anger with every fiber of his being, wanted to agree to anything the Goodman offered, just to see those who hurt him destroyed. But another memory banished the hatred in a warm glow – the kiss he shared with the Scavenger girl. The red haze clouding his mind faded, and Kylo slowly regained his senses again.

“I see,” the Goodman pondered. “I’m willing to concede. She will be allowed to stay at your side. Your talent, combined with her courage and fierceness – the pair of you will be formidable. Unbeatable.”

Kylo blinked and instead of the Goodman, the girl stood before him. Kylo’s breath hitched, and a wave of desire washed over him. Her hair was pulled back into an intricate twist, not a single hair escaped the complicated hairdo. Her skin was pale and flawless, without freckles dusting the bridge of her nose, and her lips blood red. She looked forbidding in her flawless beauty. A black dress unlike anything he’d ever seen her wear hugged her slender form. The long, narrow skirt was made of a flowing, shimmery material, and the bodice, pushing up her breasts, showed much more cleavage than was considered proper. Unsmiling, but with an intense look in her eyes she sauntered towards him and lifted a hand to his neck, so she could pull him down and press a kiss onto his lips. Her other hand took his hand, and placed it on her breast. A groan escaped him, and he pulled her flush against him, deepening the kiss, giving in to his desire, but she resisted, and stepped out of his embrace.

“Bring me the Emperor’s head,” she whispered, a finger trailing along his neck, and she licked her lips. “Once we have his throne, you can have your reward.”

“Promise?” Kylo muttered and groaned, his blood thumping in his ears, overwhelmed by desire.

“Say yes, Kylo,” she demanded. “Please!” She held out her hand, looking intently at him. Like a puppet on a string, he jerkily made a step towards her and started to lift his hand to promise her everything she wanted, if only she would kiss him again.

“You’re not playing fair,” he heard the girl say sharply. Kylo tried to clear his mind by shaking his head. How could he hear her from behind him, when she was standing right in front of him?

“Do it!” the dark beauty standing in front of him commanded, raising her hand even further. “Let’s shake on it!”

“No,” he heard her say from behind him. “You have to show him the alternative. What could await him if he doesn’t!”

Kylo felt a slight touch on his shoulder, and a faint tingling started at the base of his skull. He sluggishly turned his head around and looked into the girl’s eyes, which brimmed with unshed tears.

“What–” Kylo managed to croak out, confused.

This version of her looked like he remembered her, with all the small imperfections that enhanced her natural beauty. Tendrils of flyaway hair framing her face, freckles dusting the bridge of her nose, a slight tan on her cheeks, and lips worried pink by her teeth. She lifted her hand from his shoulder up to his cheek, and–

–He started to feel a sensation he hadn’t felt since before he left his uncle, more than three years ago. The muscles in his limbs started to cramp and shake, and his eyes rolled back into his head.

_ Slowly, he lifted the veil held in place by a simple flower crown. Her dimpled smile greeted him, and her eyes, though tears still clung to her lashes, smiled up to him warmly. _

_ “You cried,” he muttered and brushed the tears away with his thumbs. _

_ “Only tears of happiness,” she assured him, and stepped closer to him. _

_ “I sure hope so.” _

_ Her smile deepened, she rose up on her toes and impatiently tugged him down, so she could brush her lips against his. _

_ “I never thought I could feel this happy,” she whispered against his lips. _

_ “Me neither.” _

_ When she sank back down onto her feet again, he bent down and followed her, chasing her mouth with his. Small brushes of lips against lips soon became lingering, and tongues darted out to taste and explore. His arm tightened around her waist and pressed her against his body, knowing full well that she would be able to feel his rising need for her. He didn’t have to hide this anymore. They were married now, and he was allowed, even encouraged, to need her like this. _

_ “You,” he breathed, when he pulled back slightly to catch his breath. _

_ “Ben,” was her answering sigh, and his heart did a somersault. After being called by another moniker for so long, hearing his real name was a heady experience, far more intimate than any other endearment she could come up with. _

_ They leaned their foreheads against each other, and her hands started to loosen the ties holding her dress closed, until it slid down her body. The loose shift she wore underneath did nothing to hide her curves from the light shining through it from behind. Her nimble fingers now opened the strings closing the shift at the neckline and by stretching her arms above her head, she encouraged him to finish undressing her, which he impatiently did with shaking fingers, brushing the veil off when he tugged the shift over her head. _

_ Seeing her naked before him, he sank to his knees on the hard wooden floor of the cottage, unable to speak, completely overwhelmed. How did he deserve this? He started to press kisses to every inch of her body he could reach and let his hands roam freely, caressing her breasts, brushing down her sides, kneading her rear. When her legs started to shake, and her knees threatened to give out from underneath her, he gently lifted her up, crossed the room in eager strides and laid her onto her –no, their– bed. Barely pausing in his worship of her body, he loosened the fastenings on his shirt, pulled it over his head and tossed it carelessly to the floor. Her hands tugged at his trousers. _

_ “Not yet,” he muttered, but moved to lay on the bed beside her, gently parting her legs and starting to explore her folds. At first, she ducked her head into his shoulder, shy and embarrassed, but soon his caresses had her moaning and sighing. Her fingers dug into his skin, and when she arched her back off the bed and shattered, his name –his real name– fell from her lips like a prayer. _

_ Only now did he dare to undo the fastenings of his trousers and let them join his shirt on the floor. Returning into her waiting arms to lay between her legs felt like coming home, but only when he pressed his hard member into her wet warmth, did he understand why wars were started for this very act. _

_ “I’m yours, for as long as you will have me,” she breathed, a tear leaking out of her eyes. _

_ “Until forever, then,” he answered. _

_ “Until forever,” she echoed. She linked their fingers together and placed them next to her head on the pillow. _

_ His eyes were trained on their linked hands, and as he moved in absolute bliss, he noticed that they started to change. The skin on the back of both of their hands lost their smoothness, became slightly wrinkly and age marks started to appear. His eyes snapped back to her face. The hair framing it was streaked with grey now, and the crows feet that had only been visible when she laughed, had deepened. She looked older, but still beautiful, and love for him shone out of her expressive eyes. _

_ “Forever,” she confirmed. _

Kylo’s eyes snapped open again, and his gaze fell upon the face of his beloved. Fighting against the invisible bonds that held him in place, he slowly turned and angled his body towards her. He reached for her, pulling her close, and let his head fall onto her shoulder. 

“Thank you,” he breathed into her neck, as her arms closed around him.

“This is what you choose?” the Goodman’s cold voice cut through the slowly lifting haze muddling his brain. “To live in obscurity, without leaving your mark on the world? You could have accomplished much, so much more than Snoke. And you choose to waste that potential? You fool!”

“I choose happiness, not power or revenge,” Kylo firmly stated, lifting his head, staring at the swaying feather, as it was the only thing he could focus on. “I will never bow or bind myself to you.”

“As you wish.”

The feather on the hat started to grow in size as it swayed like a flame. And like one, it emanated light, flickering, sputtering, with sparks flying from it. The sparks, landed on the wooden floor and exploded into fire with spurts of flames dissecting the room, effectively blocking them from the door.

When Kylo turned towards the millers behind him, he noticed Armitage staring uncomprehendingly at his hands, while he drew symbols in the air and muttered spells. Finally he looked up and stared at Kylo.

“You bloody fools! What have you done? The magic is gone!” he hissed, his face contorted with hatred. He started to storm towards Kylo and lifted his fisted hands to strike when Mitaka grabbed him from behind.

“The window!” he shouted while tackling Armitage to the ground. “It’s the only way out of here.”

Gideon was nearest to the window and opened it, instantly climbing out of it, and as fast as they could, the other men followed suit, save for Armitage, who tried to open the cupboard he knew the Koraktor was shut in. He rattled the doors and tried to break them off their hinges, but they held fast.

Mitaka and Kylo helped the girl climb out of the window and turned back to call for Armitage. But the quickly-spreading fire had him nearly closed off from the window, leaving him no escape route.

“Armitage!” Kylo shouted, to get his attention, but either he wasn’t able to hear him over the roaring and crackling of the flames, or he chose not to react.

As soon as Kylo, as the last of the men, tumbled out of the window, the roaring fire intensified and the windows of the upper story where the men’s bedroom had been shattered, and smoke billowed out of them. He heard a sharp cry of fear as he ducked under the shards of glass raining down, and he ran towards where the men were all huddled together at the edge of the forest, looking at the burning mill. As soon as he joined the group, the girl flew into his arms.

“Are you hurt?” she asked in a trembling voice.

Kylo drew her in into his arms and held her tightly.

“No. Thanks to you, I’m not.”

They stood like that for a while, Kylo and the girl immersed in each other, the other men watching the mill and all it entailed burn to the ground.

“I don’t even know your name,” he finally whispered into her hair, and he felt her lips curve into a smile against his neck. She drew back, and looked up at him.

“Rey,” she said. “My name is Rey.”

His lips wrapped themselves around the syllable, before he took a deep breath.

“My name is Ben,” he finally said and felt as if a weight he didn’t know he was carrying was lifted from his soul.

Names had powers. The power to hurt, but also the power to heal. From now on, her name would be the balm healing the fissures of his cracked heart. 

**Author's Note:**

> I want to express my gratitude towards [MissCoppelia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCoppelia/pseuds/MissCoppelia), who betaed the first draft for me, and the RFFA mods, who polished this story so it hopefully can shine.


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